Climbing in The British Isles Volume I Part 8

'I have knocked about,' he said himself, 'among the mountains ever since, till I may almost say "I knaw iv'ry craag."' That he was somewhat of an egotist cannot be denied. In his letters as in his poems his own feats form the burden of his song. To this point all topics converged with the same certainty that all roads are said to lead to Rome. He was never tired of relating how, for instance, in his sixty-ninth year he had one day walked 46 miles in 14-1/2 hours, on the third day following 56 miles in 18 hours, and after a similar interval 60 miles in less than 20 hours, thus accomplis.h.i.+ng within one week three walks, any one of which might well knock up many a man of half his age; how, on another occasion, he had found two brethren of his own cloth struggling feebly to surmount the difficulties of Rossett Gill; how, taking pity upon their tender years, he had transferred their knapsacks to his own venerable shoulders and, striding on before, encouraged them to complete their weary task. A man aged between sixty and seventy might fairly plume himself on such an exploit. He also rejoiced greatly in the fact that he had been the first student of St. Bees College--a distinction of which, as he justly said, no one could ever deprive him. But the feat on which he especially prided himself was one of bodily activity. During the third part of a century he held the living of Rivington, near Bolton-le-Moors. It chanced that the weatherc.o.c.k of his church had become loose, and the masons rather shrank from the risk of going up to secure it. Here was an opportunity which our friend could not forego; and Rivington witnessed the unwonted spectacle of a beneficed clergyman of the Church of England solemnly swarming up his own steeple and making fast the vane 'under circ.u.mstances of terror which made the workmen recoil from the task, and the gazing rustics turn sick with horror at the sight!' While walking proudly back to his parsonage he composed a commemorative epigram which will bear quotation:

Who has not heard of Steeple Jack, That lion-hearted Saxon?

Though I'm not he, he was my sire, For I am 'Steeple Jackson'!

Indeed, his fancy was as lively as his limbs were supple. He was ever on the watch for some a.n.a.logy or ant.i.thesis; ever producing some new alliteration or epigram expressive of such contrasts as that between his age and his activity. His favourite description of himself was 'senex juvenilis'--an idea which he frequently put into English, e.g.:

If this in your mind you will fix When I make the Pillar my toy, I was born in 1, 7, 9, 6, And you'll think me a nimble old boy.

On the late Mr. Maitland, a well-known climber, as only second to himself in age and ardour, he bestowed the t.i.tle 'Maitland of Many Mounts' and 'Patriarch Presumptive of the Pillarites.' There is nothing strange in his thus designating a successor and bestowing t.i.tles of honour; for these are matter of royal privilege, and he looked upon himself as the Mountain Monarch and always expected climbers to attend his mimic court and pay him homage. But he had many a high-flown alias besides. When Mr. Pendlebury came under his notice he contrasted himself with the Senior Wrangler, rather neatly, as the 'Senior Scrambler'; after his ascent of the Pillar he dubbed himself 'St. Jacobus Stylites'; and many other t.i.tles are introduced into the occasional poems on which he expended much of his ingenuity.

His bodily powers were not allowed to rust away. 'My adopted motto,' he said, 'is "Stare nescio,"' and some idea of his boundless love of enterprise may be formed from one of his letters: 'I have been twelve months afloat on the wide, wide sea. I have been beneath the falls of Niagara. I have sung "G.o.d save the King" in the hall of St. Peter's; I have ascended Vesuvius in the eruption of 1828; I have capped Snowdon in Wales and Slieve Donard in Ireland, and nearly all the hills in this district.... It only remains for me to mount the Pillar Rock!' Before the end of the following May this hope was gratified, and a proud moment it was for this veteran climber when, seated serenely on the summit, he was able to record in a Greek inscription (written, as he carefully notes, 'without specs') his ascent of the famous rock. Think of the life, the energy, the determination that must have been in him! Years seemed to be powerless to check the current of his blood. Where are we to look for another of his age--he was now in his eightieth year--showing any approach to the same combination of enterprise, pluck and bodily vigour? It cannot be wondered at that his success filled him with the keenest delight. He wrote off at once in high glee to his friends and felt quite injured if, in their reply or their delay in replying, he detected any sign of indifference to his exploit. But true to his motto 'Stare nescio,' he was not content with this. Within a month we find him expressing a fear that his t.i.tle 'Patriarch of the Pillarites' might not be acknowledged by 'the Western division of the Order,' and announcing his intention of climbing the Pillar from the west also in order to secure his claim. He playfully proposes, moreover, that while he, 'the aged errant knight,' with his faithful squire toiled up from the west, a certain fair Pillarite should arrive at the summit from the east and crown his success on the spot by the bestowal on him of her hand and heart. According to all approved precedent the 'aged errant knight' ought to have bound his lady's favour around his clerical hat and ranged the mountains extorting from the pa.s.sing tourist at the point of his alpenstock a confession of her peerless beauty; or for her sake betaken himself to the Rock and there pa.s.sed nights of vigil and days of toil a.s.sisting distressed damsels in the terrible pa.s.sage of the 'Slab.' Whatever he did, he made no attempt on the west route. Perhaps despair of the reward had cooled his zeal--zeal conditional like that of the Hindoo teacher who, when asked whether he professed the creed which he was anxious to teach, navely replied, 'I am not a Christian; but I expect to be one shortly--if sufficient inducement offers.'

There is a sad and sharp contrast in turning from his high spirits and playful fancy to his sudden death. It has been described elsewhere.

Though fourscore and two was (as he himself expressed it on the very day of his death) the 'howdah' on his back, it cannot be said that the ever-growing howdah had crushed its bearer. His vigour was unimpaired.

Like Walter Ewbank,

To the very last, He had the lightest foot in Ennerdale.

Indeed, the same thing might have happened to a boy. It was an accident; but it might be rash to say that it was a misfortune, or that he would himself have regarded any other death as preferable. His life had already been longer and more varied than falls to ordinary men; but the change could not long have been delayed. A few months would have seen his faculties failing and his powers decayed. To a man of his habits and temperament inaction would have been the most terrible affliction, and though he might have dragged on for years, his strength would truly have been labour and sorrow.

Two years before he had stood close to this very spot. 'Almost all the mountains,' he said, 'which I had known in youth, in manhood, and in old age were visible, and seemed to give me a kindly greeting "for auld lang syne." In the fervour of admiration I might have chanted, "Nunc dimittis, Domine, servum tuum in pace."' We may well believe that, had the old man foreseen his fate, he would have gladly welcomed it, and have found for it no fitter place among all his beloved mountains than this quiet cove almost within the shadow of the majestic rock.

=Patterdale= is a place where a climber may spend a week or two with much enjoyment, though the quality of the rocks is by no means first-rate. It is the best centre for _Helvellyn_, _Fairfield_, and _St.

Sunday Crag_, and convenient for _Swarthbeck_ and the whole _High Street_ range. On _Place Fell_, fine as it looks, there is not much worth climbing. _Deepdale_ and _Dovedale_ are both worth exploring.

=Pavey Ark=, one of the Langdale Pikes, is easily reached in three-quarters of an hour from Dungeon Gill. On it will be found some splendid climbing, including the _Big Gully_, the _Little Gully_, _Jack's Rake_ (q.v.), and many minor points of interest. The two chief gullies stand on either side of a b.u.t.tress of rock, the top of which forms a tooth on the sky line. The _Little Gully_ is on the south side of it, and is V-shaped, giving a very straightforward but pleasant climb. But the _Great Gully_ has two considerable difficulties, one low down and the other near the top. The lower is caused by a huge block covering a considerable cavern. The way is either right through the cavern and out again through a narrow hole, or up a high gra.s.sy bank on the right hand. In either case a narrow place is reached, walled in between the big block and a smaller one on the right hand. Here the difficulty is that the walls nearly meet towards the top, so that it is necessary, in order to get room for the head, to go rather 'outside.'

However, a second man with a rope can hold the leader very securely, and a piece of rock having come away, the headroom is much more commodious than it used to be. Just below the level of _Jack's Rake_ there are some very 'brant and slape' inclines of wet or muddy rock, which most people consider the worst part of the climb. There is very little hold, and what there is was on the occasion of the first ascent lubricated by a film of fine mud. On reaching _Jack's Rake_ several variations may be made, and straight ahead there is a very neat little chimney. These upper rocks are of splendid gripping quality; rough as a cow's tongue, it would be quite difficult to make a slip on them. The Big Gully was climbed by the writer in the summer of 1882, and the small one in June 1886. In March 1887 Mr. Slingsby made a note about the former in the Wastdale Head book. He says that it took his party two hours and forty minutes, but his estimate of the height of the gully at 1,300 ft. is more than double of the truth, and must be due to a slip of the pen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PAVEY ARK (NEAR VIEW) A, Narrow gully; B, Big gully; C, D, Smaller gullies; E, Wide scree gully. From the foot of E to A runs _Jack's Rake_.]

In the book at Millbeck there is a note by the same distinguished climber, dated May 30, 1887, in which he records an ascent of this gully made by Miss Mabel Hastings, and gives the height of it as 600 or 650 ft.

=Penyghent.=--The sixth in height of the Yorks.h.i.+re hills, but long supposed, on account of its finer shape, to be the highest of them all.

As late as 1770 it was reckoned at 3,930 ft. It can be ascended from Horton station in little over an hour. Celtic scholars revel in the name; they practically agree that it means 'head of something,' but cannot accept each other's views as to what that something is. When Defoe was in this neighbourhood he saw 'nothing but high mountains, which had a terrible aspect, and more frightful than any in Monmouths.h.i.+re or Derbys.h.i.+re, especially _Pengent Hill_.'

=Piers Gill=, in Wastdale, on the north front of _Lingmell_, has a vast literature of its own. As a rock ravine, not in limestone, it is only second to _Deep Gill_ on _Scafell_ and the great gully in the Wast.w.a.ter _Screes_, both of which are far less easy of access than this, which can be reached from Wastdale Head in half an hour. The difficulties depend entirely on the quant.i.ty of water. One, the 'cave pitch,' may be pa.s.sed at the cost of a wetting almost at any time; but above it is another, known as the 'Bridge Fall,' from a vast column of fallen rock which spans the stream a few yards above it, which is at all times difficult, and in nineteen seasons out of twenty wholly impossible.

Until the unprecedented drought of 1893 it had never been climbed. Even then a less brilliant climber than Dr. Collier would scarcely have succeeded. His ascent was made on April 29, 1893, and his companions were Messrs. Winser, W. Jones, and Fairbairn. The big pitch was found to be 40 or 50 ft. high, the lowest part of it apparently overhanging. The first few feet were climbed about three feet to the right of the falling water, after which the leader was able to reach the other side of the gill by stretching his left foot across it just outside the water. By this means this great and hitherto insuperable difficulty was overcome.

Unless we are entering on a cycle of dry seasons, the exploit is one which will not be repeated for some time.

Various accidents and minor mishaps have taken place in Piers Gill. One is described by Mr. Payn, and the injured man was, I believe, a shepherd called Tom Hale. Mr. W.O. Burrows had a bad fall above the bridge, and people descending from the _Pikes_ are often pounded about the same spot. Some years ago a tourist had to pa.s.s the night in the gill without food, but protested that he was 'quite consoled by the beautiful scenery.' The discovery of the route up the east side of the _Pillar Rock_ was within an ace of being delayed for years, owing to the band of bold explorers who were to work it out becoming entangled in _Piers Gill_ while on their way to _Wastdale Head_.

The name is spelt 'Pease' by Mr. Payn and by most of the early authorities, and judging by the a.n.a.logy of other places in the North of England this would appear to be more correct.

=Pike o' Stickle=, also known as _Steel Pike_ and sometimes as the _Sugarloaf_, drops into Langdale from the north in one continuous slope, which for length and steepness has not many rivals in England. The top piece of the hill is curiously symmetrical, and resembles a hayc.o.c.k or a thimble. It is not easy to find satisfactory climbs on it. Mr. Gwynne says of it: 'A very fine peak, that, viewed from the valley, has very much the appearance of the Monch. It runs down towards the _Stake_ Pa.s.s in a spur, which must be the starting-point of most of the climbs on this mountain. There is a curious gully here, too, which is worthy of the climber's attention. It does not run from top to bottom, but suddenly begins about the middle of the crag. The difficulty is to get at this gully, and some pretty climbing can be obtained in the attempt.'

=Pillar Rock.=--There are but three directions from which the _Pillar_ is commonly approached--namely, Ennerdale (Gillerthwaite), b.u.t.termere, and Wastdale Head. In each case the guide-books (except Baddeley's) exhibit a suspicious shyness of specifying any time for the walk.

Wherever the present writer gives times, they must be understood to be the quickest of which he happens to have made any note; for the best test of times is a 'reductio ad minima.' A journey may be indefinitely prolonged, but it cannot be shortened beyond a certain limit; thus, _Scafell Pike_ cannot be reached from Wastdale Head in much less than 60 minutes of hard going, while the walk up the Pillar Fell cannot be cut down much below 75 minutes. This supplies us with a trustworthy comparison, although for a hot day that pace is not to be recommended; in each case double the time is not more than a fair allowance. Never let yourself be hurried at starting, come home as hard as ever you like; it is the chamois-hunter's system, and by far the best. Baddeley seems to reverse the principle, for he allows 2 to 2-1/2 hours for the ascent via Black Sail, and says that it is shorter by Wind Gap; yet for the _descent_ from Wind Gap (which is, say, 20 minutes short of the summit) he gives as a fair allowance 2 to 3 hours. Perhaps he preferred conforming to what is apparently the approved fox-hunting style:

[Ill.u.s.tration: PILLAR ROCK A, B, Summits of Shamrock; C, Shamrock gully; D, Pisgah; E, High Man; G, Curtain; H, Steep Gra.s.s; I, Foot of Great Chimney; I, K, Walker's gully; J, Low Man; L, J, West route; M, Waterfall; N, I, East Scree.]

Harkaway! See, she's off! O'er hill and through whol We spank till we're gaily nar done, Than, hingan a lip like a motherless fwol, _Sledder heammward, but nit in a run_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PILLAR ROCK FROM THE NORTH A, _High Man_; B, _Low Man_; C, _Shamrock_; D, _Walker's gully_; E, Below this is the _waterfall_. The _terrace_ runs past the foot of Walker's gully to the foot of the _waterfall_.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PILLAR ROCK FROM THE SOUTH A, Top of rock and of _West Jordan climb_; B, Top of _Central Jordan climb_; C, Top of _East Jordan climb_; D, G, The _Curtain_; E, The _Notch_; F, The _Ledge_. The ma.s.s of rock in the foreground is _Pisgah_.]

_From Ennerdale_: From Gillerthwaite, a farmhouse nearly a mile and a half above the lake, the Pillar is not far distant; but the direct way is exceedingly rough, and it will be found best to make use of the path up _Wingate Cove_, skirting round the mountain, when by that means a considerable height has been gained. The way is so rough that many people think it an economy of labour to go right on up the gap, and then left over the summit of the mountain.

One of the best ways of approaching the Pillar is to sleep at the little inn at the foot of the lake and row up from there to the water head. For walking the whole way from the inn to the fell-top Baddeley allows 3 to 3-1/2 hours.

_From b.u.t.termere_: After crossing _Scarf Gap_ some keep to the track as far as the summit of the Black Sail Pa.s.s, and then turn to the right up the ridge of the Pillar Fell, while others adopt the more laborious plan of working upwards after descending the valley until nearly opposite the Rock, which in this way is certainly seen to much greater advantage. If the return be made by way of the mountain ridge, some little time may be saved by descending into Ennerdale down _Green Cove_, nearly half a mile short of Black Sail and 250 ft. higher; for Black Sail, being much nearer the head of the valley than either Scarf Gap or the Pillar, can only be used for going from one to the other at the expense of making a considerable _detour_. For the ascent, however, Green Cove is not so decidedly recommended, as many will prefer to make the round by the regular pa.s.s for the sake of the more gradual rise.

_From Wastdale_: The vast majority of visitors come from this direction, and almost all follow the same track, plodding up from Mosedale to the top of _Black Sail_ and then turning left along the ridge of the mountain. Mosedale, by the way, must not be confused with any of the numerous other valleys of the same name: it sometimes appears in the form 'Moresdale' or 'Mossdale' (Moos-thal, near Laibach in Austria, is exactly parallel), and generally indicates scenery of a dreary character; for such valleys are often, as in this case, the half-drained beds of ancient lakes, by the loss of which the scenery has seriously suffered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PILLAR FELL]

Ladies who ascend by Black Sail will find it best to keep to the path as long as possible, i.e. as far as the top of the pa.s.s, but others may save something by breasting the hill on the left soon after reaching _Gatherstone Head_, apparently a glacier mound, which rises just beyond where the track crosses the stream (Gatherstone Beck) which comes down from the pa.s.s.

On reaching the ridge it is no doubt safer, especially if there be mist about, for those who are not familiar with the way to go right on to the flat top of the mountain; the proper point from which to commence the descent is easily found, in all weathers, by following the compa.s.s-needle from the cairn to the edge of the mountain; a rough and steep descent of 400 ft. follows, which in winter demands considerable care. At first the course is to the right, but it soon strikes a small ridge which curves down to the Rock. It is, however, a waste of labour to ascend to the summit of the mountain at all. The ridge of the mountain is divided into steps, and at the foot of the uppermost of these a deep cove called _Great Doup_ is seen on the right. It may be recognised even in a mist, as it is just beyond a curious rock running out with a narrow edged top many feet from the hill-side. Less than 100 yards down the Doup the falling scree has nearly buried the cairn and iron cross erected to the memory of the Rev. James Jackson. Beyond this, as soon as the big rocks on the left permit, the track skirts round, and after one or two ups and downs comes into full view of the famous Rock.

If, however, the object be to reach the north or lowest side of the Rock, it is not necessary to descend into Ennerdale from Black Sail; for there is the _High Level_, a fine scramble all along the breast of the mountain from _Green Cove_--the first large hollow on the right, just beyond _Lookingsteads_; but the way is rather intricate, and unless properly hit off involves considerable fatigue and loss of time. At the very least half an hour will be required in either direction, and a stranger will certainly take much longer.

Those who are anxious to pursue 't' bainest rwoad' may save ten minutes or more in the walk from Wastdale by making use of _Wind Gap_ at the head of Mosedale. Hard work it undeniably is, but more shady than Black Sail, and--when the way is familiar, though no one can go very far wrong, unless he clings to the main valley too long and goes up to _Blackem_ (Black Combe) _Head_--quicker also, occupying about ninety minutes. Mr. James Payn calls it (poetically) 'a sort of perpendicular shaft--a chimney such as no sweep would adventure, but would use the machine--which is said to be the dalesman's pa.s.s into Ennerdale; you may thank your stars that it is not _your_ pa.s.s.'

It really adds little to the labour of this way and affords a far finer walk if the complete circuit of Mosedale be made along the hill-tops.

Ascending behind the inn and keeping round just under _Stirrup Crag_--the north end of _Yewbarrow_, _Dore Head_ is soon reached, and it is easy walking by the _Chair_, _Red Pike_, _Black Crag_ and _Wind Gap_ on to the _Pillar Fell_.

For the return to Wastdale _Wind Gap_ is very rough and hardly to be recommended. Mr. Baddeley is not very consistent about it, for he says, 'the best descent is by _Windy Gap_'; but again, 'the descent from _Windy Gap_ to Wastdale is, for reasons stated before, unsatisfactory'; and thereupon he recommends Black Sail. The latter gives a rapid descent--the inn may be reached in twenty-five minutes from the top of the pa.s.s; but a quicker return may be made by crossing the ridge after emerging from Great Doup, and shooting down _Wistow Crags_ into Mosedale by a large gully filled with deliciously fine scree.

Should it be preferred to make the circuit of Mosedale on the return journey, an equally fine glissade may be enjoyed from _Dore Head_; but the screes require judicious selection and dexterity on the part of the slider.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PILLAR ROCK FROM THE WEST A, Summit of _High Man_; B, _Pisgah_; C, _Low Man_; D, _Jordan Gap_.

The _West route_ ascends from this side to the depression between A and C.]

It may here be said that stout walkers may visit all the mountains of Wastdale Head in one day comfortably, and in few places is a finer walk to be found. Start, say, at 10 A.M. for Scafell; then, by Mickledoor, the Pike, Great End, Sty Head, Great Gable and Kirkfell to the Pillar, returning in the manner described above in time for dinner. In June 1864, as Ritson's Visitors' Book records, J.M. Elliott, of Trin. Coll.

Camb., made this round, including Steeple and Yewbarrow, and found that it took eight and a half hours; probably, however, he came over Stirrup Crag and not Yewbarrow _top_, which would entail something like three miles extra walking. He approached Scafell by way of Mickledoor, returning from it to the same point, and those who do not know the Broad Stand well had better follow his example; for it is a bit of a climb, and the descent especially is not easy to find. By going to Mickledoor first (and there is no shorter way to Scafell) each man can see what he has before him, and decide for himself whether it would not be better to leave Scafell out of his programme.

Before entering into the history of the Pillar it is almost indispensable to give a short general description of its main features in order to a.s.sist the comprehension of the facts narrated. Difficult as it must always be to find an image which shall supply a stranger with any clear idea of a ma.s.s so irregular and unsymmetrical as this, yet its general appearance and the arrangement of its parts may be roughly apprehended in the following manner:--Imagine a large two-gabled church planted on the side of a steep hill. From the western and loftier gable let there rise, at the end nearest the mountain, a stunted tower.

Finally let the building be shattered and all but overwhelmed under an avalanche of _debris_. What will be the effect? Naturally the stream of stones will be much deeper above than below, and, while nearly burying the tower and upper ends of the roof, will flow along between the two gables and run off, as rainwater would do, at the far end. Angular fragments, however, remain at rest unless the slope is very steep, and consequently a long talus will be formed sloping down to the brink of the sudden drop at an angle of something like 45 degrees. Here we have a fair representation of the Pillar ma.s.s: the tower will be the High Man, and the gable from which it rises the Low Man. It will be readily understood that the second gable may be a source of some confusion to those who are ignorant that there is more than one, and from some points may disguise or altogether conceal the tower. This is why it is called the _Sham Rock_; but it is only from below that it would be recognised as part of the Pillar ma.s.s, for from above it is wholly insignificant.

When viewed from immediately below, the tower is concealed behind the gable from which it rises, and the whole ma.s.s of rock bears a rough resemblance to the letter =M=; but from above, the High Man, with which alone the climber from the east side has to reckon, is also the only part of the rock which he is likely to observe. The result is that, when the Low Man is mentioned to anyone who knows only the Easy Way, the reply is usually on the model of the poet Wordsworth's only joke: 'Why, my good man, till this moment I was not even aware that there _was_ a Low Man!' Yet the Low Man is by far the finer object of the two, and its cliffs are at least six times as high as those of what is called the High Man. The only side from which the latter shows a respectable elevation is the west, where the scree lies much lower, because it has a free escape, instead of being pent up between the two gables like the east scree.

In winter-time, when the inequalities are all smoothed over with a sheet of hard snow, both sides of the rock are rather dangerous, but especially the eastern, where a man who slipped would have the greatest difficulty in stopping himself before he shot over the precipitous gully at the end. This gully (occupying, as it were, the place of the water-pipe) is known, in allusion to an accident which occurred there in 1883, as _Walker's Gully_.