The Eagle requires a large domain for its support: but
several pairs, not many years ago, were constantly resident in
this country, building their nests in the steeps of Borrowdale,
Wastdale, Ennerdale, and on the eastern side of Helvellyn.
Often have I heard anglers speak of the grandeur of their
appearance, as they hovered over Red Tarn, in one of the coves
of this mountain. The bird frequently returns, but is always
destroyed. Not long since, one visited Rydal lake, and remained
some hours near its banks: the consternation which it occasioned
among the different species of fowl, particularly the
herons, was expressed by loud screams. The horse also is
naturally afraid of the eagle.—There were several Roman stations
among these mountains; the most considerable seems to
have been in a meadow at the head of Windermere, established,
undoubtedly, as a check over the Passes of Kirkstone, Dunmailraise,
and of Hardknot and Wrynose. On the margin of Rydal
lake, a coin of Trajan was discovered very lately. The Roman Fort here alluded to, called by the country people “Hardknot
Castle,” is most impressively situated half-way down the hill on
the right of the road that descends from Hardknot into Eskdale.
It has escaped the notice of most antiquarians, and is but
slightly mentioned by Lysons. The Druidical Circle is
about half a mile to the left of the road ascending Stone-side
from the vale of Duddon: the country people call it “Sunken Church.”
The reader who may have been interested in the foregoing
Sonnets, (which together may be considered as a Poem,) will
not be displeased to find in this place a prose account of the
Duddon, extracted from Green's comprehensive Guide to the
Lakes, lately published. ‘The road leading from Coniston to
Broughton is over high ground, and commands a view of the
River Duddon; which, at high water, is a grand sight, having
the beautiful and fertile lands of Lancashire and Cumberland
stretching each way from its margin. In this extensive view,
the face of nature is displayed in a wonderful variety of hill
and dale; wooded grounds and buildings; amongst the latter
Broughton Tower, seated on the crown of a hill, rising elegantly
from the valley, is an object of extraordinary interest. Fertility
on each side is gradually diminished, and lost in the superior
heights of Blackcomb, in Cumberland, and the high lands between
Kirkby and Ulverstone.
‘The road from Broughton to Seathwaite is on the banks of
the Duddon, and on its Lancashire side it is of various elevations.
The river is an amusing companion, one while brawling
and tumbling over rocky precipices, until the agitated water
becomes again calm by arriving at a smoother and less precipitous
bed, but its course is soon again ruffled, and the current
thrown into every variety of foam which the rocky channel of a
river can give to water.’
—Vide Green's Guide to the Lakes, vol. i. pp. 98–100.
After all, the traveller would be most gratified who should
approach this beautiful Stream, neither at its source, as is done
in the Sonnets, nor from its termination; but from Coniston
over Walna Scar; first descending into a little circular valley,
a collateral compartment of the long winding vale through which
flows the Duddon. This recess, towards the close of September,
when the after-grass of the meadows is still of a fresh green,
with the leaves of many of the trees faded, but perhaps none
fallen, is truly enchanting. At a point elevated enough to show
the various objects in the valley, and not so high as to diminish
their importance, the stranger will instinctively halt. On the
foreground, a little below the most favourable station, a rude
footbridge is thrown over the bed of the noisy brook foaming by
the way-side. Russet and craggy hills, of bold and varied outline,
surround the level valley, which is besprinkled with grey
rocks plumed with birch trees. A few homesteads are interspersed,
in some places peeping out from among the rocks like
hermitages, whose site has been chosen for the benefit of sunshine
as well as shelter; in other instances, the dwelling-house,
barn, and byre, compose together a cruciform structure, which,
with its embowering trees, and the ivy clothing part of the walls
and roof like a fleece, call to mind the remains of an ancient
abbey. Time, in most cases, and nature everywhere, have
given a sanctity to the humble works of man, that are scattered
over this peaceful retirement. Hence a harmony of tone and
colour, a consummation and perfection of beauty, which would
have been marred had aim or purpose interfered with the course
of convenience, utility, or necessity. This unvitiated region
stands in no need of the veil of twilight to soften or disguise its
features. As it glistens in the morning sunshine, it would fill
the spectator's heart with gladsomeness. Looking from our
chosen station, he would feel an impatience to rove among its
pathways, to be greeted by the milkmaid, to wander from house
to house, exchanging ‘good-morrows’ as he passed the open
doors; but, at evening, when the sun is set, and a pearly light
gleams from the western quarter of the sky, with an answering
light from the smooth surface of the meadows; when the trees
are dusky, but each kind still distinguishable; when the cool
air has condensed the blue smoke rising from the cottage
chimneys; when the dark mossy stones seem to sleep in the
bed of the foaming brook; then, he would be unwilling to
move forward, not less from a reluctance to relinquish what he
beholds, than from an apprehension of disturbing, by his
approach, the quietness beneath him. Issuing from the plain
of this valley, the brook descends in a rapid torrent passing by
the church-yard of Seathwaite. The traveller is thus conducted
at once into the midst of the wild and beautiful scenery
which gave occasion to the Sonnets from the 14th to the 20th
inclusive. From the point where the Seathwaite brook joins
the Duddon, is a view upwards, into the pass through which the
river makes its way into the plain of Donnerdale. The perpendicular
rock on the right bears the ancient British name of The
Pen; the one opposite is called Walla-barrow Crag, a name
that occurs in other places to designate rocks of the same
character. The chaotic aspect of the scene is well marked by
the expression of a stranger, who strolled out while dinner was
preparing, and at his return, being asked by his host, “What
way he had been wandering?” replied, “As far as it is finished!”
The bed of the Duddon is here strewn with large fragments of
rocks fallen from aloft; which, as Mr. Green truly says, ‘are
happily adapted to the many-shaped waterfalls,’ (or rather
waterbreaks, for none of them are high,) ‘displayed in the short
space of half a mile.’ That there is some hazard in frequenting
these desolate places, I myself have had proof; for one night an
immense mass of rock fell upon the very spot where, with a
friend, I had lingered the day before. ‘The concussion,’ says
Mr. Green, speaking of the event,’ (for he also, in the practice of
his art, on that day sat exposed for a still longer time to the
same peril,) ‘was heard, not without alarm by the neighbouring
shepherds.’ But to return to Seathwaite Church-yard: it contains
the following inscription:—
‘In memory of the Reverend Robert Walker, who died the
25th of June, 1802, in the 93d year of his age, and 67th of his
curacy at Seathwaite.
‘Also, of Anne his wife, who died the 28th of January, in the
93d year of her age.’
In the parish register of Seathwaite Chapel, is this notice:
‘Buried, June 28th, the Rev. Robert Walker. He was curate of Seathwaite sixty-six years. He was a man singular for his temperance, industry, and integrity.’
This individual is the Pastor alluded to, in the eighteenth Sonnet, as a worthy compeer of the country parson of Chaucer, &c. In the seventh book of the Excursion, an abstract of his character is given, beginning—
‘A Priest abides before whose life such doubts
Fall to the ground;—’
