thought of escape entered the child's head. He leaped from the horse Sidroe had mounted him on, and before any one had time to notice him, had crept away along some ditches, till he had got near a neighbouring wood, where he ensconsed himself in a hollow tree. He could hear the distant shouting of the Danes, and above all the powerful voice of the Earl Sidroe, but whether it was that they were calling him, or that they were still engaged in extricating the waggons and their valuable load, he could not tell. Night came on at length, and stealing from the wood, he made the best of his way across country to Croyland. In the meantime the brethren who had fled to Encarig had returned, and were lamenting over the ruins of their house, and the death of all who had remained in it; great was their joy therefore to see the bright, golden-haired Tugarius return, the sole survivor. "LORD, Thou hast delivered the soul of Thy turtle-dove from the multitude of the enemies," said one of the brothers. "I have escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler," replied Tugarius, looking up into the deep skies with a grateful glow in his young countenance, "the snare is broken and I am delivered." S. B. G. (Authority. Ingulf. Hist. Abbat. Croyland.) ROSA'S SUMMER WANDERINGS. CHAPTER XIX THE LAKES. WASTWATER Lake is formed by the expansion of the waters of the small river Irt, which rises among the mountains around the head of Wastdale. Below the Lake, near the little chapel of Wastdale hamlet, the road divides into two branches: one of these crosses the river, and coils around the foot of the lower extremity of the Screes into Miterdale: the other, after keeping company with the river a very little way, proceeds, amid pleasing views of the Vale of Ravenglass, to Gosforth, a small place where the sole object of interest is the Church, with its ancient sculptured Cross, the quaint epitaphs on the tombstones, and the peculiar cenotaphs. Between the course pursued by these two roads, the river Irt winds its tortuous career towards the little estuary at Ravenglass, where it falls into the sea. A curious thing concerning this river is mentioned by Camden: he says, "its shellfish produce pearls, after they have been impregnated by the dew, of which they are extremely fond." Another writer says, "These pearls, however they originated, were obtained from muscles, by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, who sought for them at low water, and afterwards sold them to the jewellers. About the year 1695, a patent was granted to some gentlemen, for pearl-fishing in this river: how the undertaking prospered, is uncertain, as the pearl muscles never appear to have been very plentiful here. Of late years none have been met with."51 I may here observe, that Ravenglass is a small, but ancient seaport-town, built on the borders of a creek, formed by the confluence of the rivers Irt, Mite, and Esk: the oysters on this coast are extremely fine, and the fishermen are chiefly employed in attending to the beds. Of the river Mite, it need only be said that it rises under the savage clefts of Scawfell, and forms the tiny lake known as Burn-moor-tarn, which is seated behind the Screes, at the head of Miterdale, amongst fells so wild that there are scarcely sheep tracks to direct the steps of the explorer. Miterdale lies between the back (or south side) of the Screes, and the Fells of Muncaster: thence the little Mite flows across the plain into the estuary. The Esk appears to have its source somewhere between Scawfell and Bowfell: after flowing under Hardknot and Harter Fell, it receives the stream which comes through Devock-water, a miniature lake not much larger than Burn-moor-tarn, but reported to contain the finest trout in the north of England. Further along, on the southern side of the Esk, are some singular ruins of considerable magnitude, called the City of Barnscar, ascribed by tradition to the Danes, who are said to have gathered for its inhabitants "the lads of Drig and lasses of Beckermont" the circumference is nearly three miles, and there appear to have been a long 1 Beauties of England and Wales. street and several cross ones; and also an ancient road leading from Ulpha to Ravenglass. Beyond this, on the northern river-bank, is Muncaster Hall, the principal residence of Lord Muncaster. The Esk subsequently broadens into a creek, discharging itself into the estuary at Ravenglass. Like Edenhall, Muncaster boasts a remarkable glass, or drinking-cup, supposed to secure good fortune to its possessor. Sir John De Pennington (descendant of Gamel De Pennington who was seated at Muncaster at the Norman Conquest) was steadily attached to the unfortunate Henry VI., and gave him a secret reception at Muncaster when flying from his enemies. In return, the king gave him this curiously-wrought glass cup, bearing the blessing that the family should ever prosper, and never want a male heir so long as they should preserve it unbroken. The family are still possessed of this glass, which is called the luck of Muncaster. Those of my readers who have perused the Life of William Wilberforce, will remember that the name of Lord Muncaster often occurs there as a frequent correspondent and very dear friend of Mr. Wilberforce. This was the first Lord Muncaster, uncle of the present baron: he died 1813, leaving only one surviving daughter married to Lord Lindsay, (since become Earl of Balcarres,) whose son, (the present Lord Lindsay) is well known for his writings on the Holy Land, and other subjects. When Mr. Wilberforce published his influential book, "Practical Christianity" (1797,) Lord Muncaster eulogised the work as follows:-"I heartily thank you for your book: as a friend, I thank you for it; as a man, I doubly thank you; but as a member of the Christian world, I render you all gratitude and acknowledgment. I thought I knew you well, but I know you better now, my dearest, excellent Wilber!" I shall have more to say about Mr. Wilberforce when I come to Windermere, where, for several years during the former part of his life, he had a lakeresidence, a house known as Rayrigg. After he had given up this pleasant summer-home, (which he felt compelled to do on account of the impossibility of enjoying retirement there, from the number of his worldly friends who came to see the lake-scenery,) he thus expressed his attachment to Cumbria, writing to Lord Muncaster :"Independently of my regard for the inhabitants, I have an affection for the mountains of Westmoreland and Cumberland, which makes me always hail the sight of them, and quit them with reluctance." Thus, he was wont, in later years, ever and anon to make a glad excursion northward, to enjoy the delight of initiating his children in his memory's well-known haunts, as well as to indulge in an occasional bright visit at Muncaster Hall. In one of these trips, he passed from Lancaster, by Casterton and Kirkby Lonsdale, through Kendal to Rydal, where Miss Wordsworth had provided a house for himself and family: thence he proceeded, by Coniston and Broughton, over Stoneshead, to Muncaster: (this happened after the death of his dear friend, Lord Muncaster;) and afterwards journeyed, by Ennerdale-Head and Loweswater to Keswick ;-(the same route which I hope presently to describe.) It was somewhere during this excursion that he exhibited the following delicate trait of Christian thoughtfulness. Two of his sons, Robert Isaac, and Samuel, (our own dear Bishop!) had started off on a boyish expedition to Keswick: their father says,—" They went longing to see Southey, but I charged them not to call upon him, lest seeing lads of their age should too painfully remind him of the son he has lost!" What a beautiful instance of the considerateness of Christian love. But we must return to the route at Gosforth. By the high road between Ravenglass and Egremont, it is three miles from Gosforth to Calder Bridge. The Calder rises among the wild and uncivilized range of mountains, Copeland Forest and the Ponsonby Fells, lying to the N.W. of Wastwater, and terminating at Dent, a fine green hill just above Egremont. On the northern bank of the Calder, about a mile from the village, in a deeply-secluded vale between the bleak mountains of Caldfell, are the beautiful remains of Calder Abbey. The situation of the ruin is extremely fine, the sides of the dale being clad with wood, and its area smiling with green meadow-land, watered by the gently-plashing stream. Calder Abbey was a foundation for Cistercian monks, begun by Ra VOL. XX. 1 Vide "Life of William Wilberforce." nulph de Meschines, second Earl of Chester and Cumberland, 1134; but not completed till the time of Thomas de Multon, who increased the number and possessions of the monks. The dissolution took place in the thirteenth year of Henry VIII. The chief object is the square tower of the church, (which was but small), supported by pointed arches on four clustered columns. The roof was supported on semi-circular arches with clustered pillars, some of which remain: against the walls are fragments of sepulchral figures. The ruins of the monastery adjoin those of the church; some broken arches, and other vestiges of the cloister, are visible. The Senhouse family, who have a mansion near, are the present owners of the ruin. "Around the Cross the flower is winding, "The solemn shrine is now laid lowly, "Hush'd is the ancient anthem, keeping "True, the rapt soul's divine emotion The desert-wind to Heaven may bear; 'Tis not the shrine that makes devotion, The place that sanctifies the prayer. "But yet I grieve that thus departed, "Still is the quiet cloister wanted For those who look with weary eye; 1 Beauties of England and Wales. |