38 Kendal Green, Kendal
16th September 1969
Dear George,
Thank you for your letter and its very interesting enclosure. I return the latter in case you want it before the dinner on the 19th.
I shall not be there, nice though it was of you to suggest that I attend. It would be just too overfacing to have to meet some forty white-haired and bald-headed old gents who professed a former acquaintance when I couldn’t recognise a blessed one of them. In fact, not more than half-a-dozen names on the list ring a bell, and those only faintly, but three (Barker, Tatlow and Wolstenholme) were subsequently colleagues in the Borough Treasurer’s Office. You can give my regards to Lawrence Wolstenholme, if you will; he was the only one I knew well.
No, I can’t bring J.C. Pye to mind at all, but H. Rydings I remember well if in fact he was a teacher at the time I was there. I’m surprised, if he it is, that he is still kicking around (but don’t tell him so!). Of the other teachers I recall Abbott, Mellor, Moulding and a Miss Almond, and of course Mr Boddy, but I could not mention any other names. H. Parker was in my class, I think – he came from Mill Hill – but I fancy that most of the others would belong to a different period.
My congratulations on your ascent of Cust’s Gully. To tell you the truth I never managed to get up that awkward pitch after trying on both sides of the gully, and in spite of being on a rope. There was nothing frightening about it but I simply could not bend my legs enough to get up the places where movement is constricted. It is, I would think, generally not true that long legs are a help in climbing and certainly not when climbing rocks. I had an awful job in Jack’s Rake for that very reason. It’s not that your feet are a long way removed from your brain, it’s simply that you can’t bend a three-foot leg in a two-foot crack. However, you clearly had no such troubles. Anyway, I suppose you just daren’t fail a task that your own offspring had accomplished. How interesting that she is taking a Mountain Leadership Course! I’d better enrol as a pupil if she can guarantee to get me up Cust’s Gully without bloodletting.
I hope you have a very successful evening on the 19th.
Yours sincerely,
AWainwright
LETTER 160: TO THE WESTMORLAND GAZETTE, 1969?
38 Kendal Green, KENDAL
To the Editor
The Westmorland Gazette,
Kendal.
Dear Sir,
THE FUTURE OF KENDAL
Amongst all the clamour for big changes in Kendal now that the bypasses are almost with us, may a small voice be heard?
The clamour is for a radical change of purpose, for modern development and new facilities, for more industry, for greater attractions for visitors, for more car parks – lest the town stagnate. Kendal is a delightful place, paradoxically say those who would change it.
Yes, it is. It is a delightful place because it was not planned, because it grew up anyhow over the centuries without interference from a surfeit of authorities and developers and consultants and outside advisers.
And why the hurry? Kendal has been here for the best part of a thousand years. Why is the year 1969 so important for decisions about its future? Kendal, even yet, is unique. Destroy the features that make it unique and they are lost for ever. There can be no going back to things as they were if a mistake is made.
Prosperity, the plank of the argument, is not altogether a matter of big turnovers and thronged shops. Prosperity has to do with contentment and tranquillity, too. If stagnation means quieter and safer streets and less noise I am all for it.
Visitors come to Kendal because they like it as it is, not because it has super camping sites and multi-storey car parks and all the fun of the fair. Introduce these things and you introduce a new type of visitor, less discerning and less appreciative.
I, as a resident, like Kendal as it is. I liked it even better twenty years ago before the planners were let loose on it.
I cannot believe that I am the only one out of step.
Yours faithfully
LETTER 161: TO MR HANCOCK, 12 JANUARY 1969
c/o The Westmorland Gazette
Kendal
12th January 1969
Dear Mr Hancock,
Thank you for the interesting letter enclosed with your Christmas card, and for your good wishes. I didn’t know that the Lake District had an admirer who was prepared to travel by train all the way from Edinburgh and back again just for the joy of spending a few hours in Borrowdale and its other delectable places. Many people do in fact travel similar distances with the same in view, but they have cars and motorways to help them along (Birmingham is now only a three-hour journey by road) but I have not heard of anyone else coming regularly across the Border and committing himself to public transport. In your case I suspect that much of the attraction of these outings derives from the pleasure of travelling on the Waverley line, which, incidentally, I also know well and always enjoy.
In beseeching me to come up to Scotland and sample its glories, you do me less than justice. As a discriminating seeker after grand scenery I have long been addicted to the Highlands, especially those along the western seaboard, and for the past fifteen years have spent all my holidays up there, usually with a Freedom of Scotland railway ticket, but more often latterly in the company of a friend with a car. I claim, in fact, to have completely surveyed the Highlands with a camera and have a collection of around 500 enlarged photographs to prove it. Scotland is magnificent (north of Glasgow) but I have never conceded that it is more beautiful than Lakeland – until last October, when I got a late chance to make yet another tour by car, and, not having been up there so late in the year before, was absolutely spellbound by the glorious autumn colours. Lock Lomond, in sunshine, was a dream of delight, the birches in Glen Garry showed a beauty out of this world, Loch Maree was a fairyland. The whole place was lit up by colours I had not suspected from summer visits. I was enthralled.
Earlier, in August, with a Freedom ticket (not to be issued in future years) I went over all the railway lines likely to be closed, even going up to Thurso in case the opportunity never came again. As regards the Waverley line, I always make a point of using it for the return home, invariably spending a last night at Melrose. As you suggest, it is a journey to make with your nose to the window.
I must thank you for your kind references to my books. I’m glad you find them helpful. If I were forty years younger I’d just love to do the same for Scotland. I have a vague idea of doing a book on walking the Border line from the Solway to Berwick, but, this apart, must content myself with places nearer home. Such as the Pennine Way. Ugh!
Thank you again for writing.
Yours sincerely,
AWainwright
LETTER 162: TO MR RIMMER, 2 JULY 1969
c/o Westmorland Gazette, KENDAL
2nd July 1969
Dear Mr Rimmer,
Thank you for your interesting letter about Cust’s Gully, damn it. The letter has been held up somewhere, otherwise I would have replied earlier.
Honestly, I don’t know what you’re bellyaching about. I told you that the first pitch had defeated me, and that I had retired to lick my wounds, never to return. Warning enough, surely, to expect some trouble? Therefore, not having done it, I couldn’t describe what terrors lay beyond the first pitch. But, from my reading of other descriptions, I feel sure your account of a horrific second pitch must be exaggerated. When I was there I had with me a companion who managed to get up the lower pitch and completed the ascent of the gully, returning to me down the branch gully. He looked ashen-faced upon his return, I admit, but said nothing of having met any further difficulty higher up the gully. Looking up it from my dishonourable place of waiting, I could see nothing above but a choke of stones. The rock-climbers guide mentions the one pitch only (as dead easy!). I think it likely, therefore, that a recent fall of rocks may have built up into a second pitch, especially as you say it was all loose.
Nay, damn it, don’t blame me. I told you not
to go.
Yours sincerely,
AWainwright
LETTER 163: TO MR VIPOND, 21 NOVEMBER 1969
c/o The Westmorland Gazette
Kendal, Westmorland
21st November 1969
Dear Mr Vipond,
Your kind letter of 5th November has been passed on to me by the Gazette office.
Yes, you are right to criticise the title ‘Boardale’ for the drawing numbered 50. I was in the greatest doubt myself before deciding to use it and did so only because I could not think of one more suitable. I know the place well, and have always come across it myself after descending Boardale, as many people will have (unless arriving by the infernal internal combustion engine, to quote your description). Martindale, to me and to most people, runs higher into the hills from the old church. The foreground to the drawing is a sort of no-man’s-land, neither in one valley nor the other. Perhaps your suggestion of ‘Howe Grain’ might have been better, after all.
I share your great regard for this corner of Lakeland, even though, at weekends, the motorists seem to have discovered it as a place for a nice picnic. Which it is, but I wish they could have left it alone and undisturbed for those who get there on foot. I remember it as a place of absolute peace and tranquillity, a very lovely backwater known to but few.
In fact, present trends being what they are, we may have been fortunate, people of our generation, in knowing the Lake District at its very best, and it may never be the same again for those who follow us. More’s the pity.
Yours sincerely
AWainwright
Some of these readers were regular writers and often it turned into a correspondence which lasted many years.
LETTER 164: TO MR DOUGHERTY, 8 AUGUST 1970
c/o The Westmorland Gazette
KENDAL
8th August 1970
Dear Mr Dougherty,
Thank you so much for your extremely kind letter of 5th July. This really deserved a much prompter reply, and I am sorry that circumstances have prevented me from giving it earlier attention. Your comments on my books are very generous and of course I greatly appreciate all you say.
With regard to Litt’s Memorial, yes, the inscription has been deciphered and communicated to me by several correspondents, and in every case agrees word for word with your translation. The word MEREOILL has in all other cases been given to me as MEREGILL, which is what it should be. I should express particular thanks to your wife, who, in the interests of knowledge, kept her face pressed into a bed of sheep droppings for twenty minutes. This I was not prepared to do myself. And they say men are the tougher sex!
As for you kind suggestion about North Wales, no I am too old now. If I were thirty years younger (how often I have said that!) it would give me pleasure to go over those wonderful hills with a small-tooth comb, but I’m afraid the task is quite beyond me now. In any case, the Highlands of Scotland (a lifetime’s work) would be my prior choice. Wales never appealed to me quite so much. The mountains are fine, of course, but the surroundings haven’t the appeal for me that Lakeland has. Wales, I always feel, lacks the soft beauty of Lakeland and always seems to me untidy: the sprawling quarry heaps, the pylons, and so on. It hasn’t been cared for and jealously guarded as has Lakeland. I’m not too fond of the Welsh accent either, if I must be honest: it would be a source of irritation if I had to spend much time there. But these are excuses. I am past it, that’s the sombre truth.
I read with interest your list of some of the lesser well-known fell-walks you have done, and I was pleased to learn that you have enjoyed these equally with the classic climbs. So did I, at the time. And nowadays, with many more people on the hills, even more so. The crowds aim for the better-known heights, Helvellyn, Gable and so on, but many of the smaller ones continue to be unfrequented and remain quiet and here one can sit and meditate undisturbed by others. The last time I was on Gable, a few weeks ago, the summit was overrun by noisy parties, transistors blared and it was a relief to get off it.
Thank you again for finding the time and taking the trouble to write to me. It was nice of you to do this. Your letter was very kind and I shall treasure it.
Yours sincerely
AWainwright
LETTER 165: TO MR DOUGHERTY, 20 MARCH 1971
… I appreciate very much all you say, and never more in evidence than in your references to caravan sites. Of course I agree absolutely. These ghastly eyesores are authorised by people who would recoil with horror if somebody slashed a Constable landscape. I think myself that they should be prohibited in any area of natural beauty. Individual protests are unavailing, and the only hope lies in organised objections by the associations who care for rural England. I have sent the appendix to your letter to the Secretary of the Friends of the Lake District, who shares our views most strongly and has often appeared as an objector on behalf of his association when applications for the development of caravan sites are under consideration.
It was nice to hear from you again.
Yours sincerely,
AWainwright
LETTER 166: TO MR DOUGHERTY, 23 OCTOBER 1974
Dear Mr Dougherty,
I have just been looking and lingering, for the umpteenth time, over the delectable view-cards of the Dolomites you were kind enough to send me after enjoying your fabulous holiday amongst real mountains. The pictures are superb. They stir the imagination almost to screaming point. Why, oh why, have I never ventured to leave these shores and go in search of my own Shangri-la? Perhaps because I was never certain where to look. Now I know. The foot of my personal rainbow would be found in the Dolomites, of course. Where else?
But I doubt whether I would ever, even in the distant days of youth, have been able to emulate your own fearless wanderings around those magnificent peaks. You did amazingly well for a mere fellwalker apprenticed to English molehills.
Perhaps it has been the fear of frustration that has kept me from venturing too far afield. It must be galling – at least I would find it so – to gaze at some soaring peak, and want to climb it, and know you can’t. Red Screes I can, and Bowfell, and even Scafell Pike, with the comforting assurance that I cannot fall off into space or be halted by an impassable rockface or be swamped by an avalanche, and that I will not get lost or benighted, and that I can reward myself at the end of the day with a rousing meal and a comfy bed. I am timid, I admit. I like to tackle something I know I can finish.
The Doughertys, obviously, are of tougher fibre. Not for them the simple paths on easy foothills. The challenge is too strong. For them, the dizzy heights, the call of the unknown, the privations, the ultimate triumph.
… Perhaps, after all, if I keep looking at them, as I most certainly will as a daily routine, I shall find a pleasure not greatly less than an actual visit would give me. Aided by a vivid imagination, which I do not lack, I can now do the skyline of the Gruppo Di Brenta, be home for tea, and sleep in my own bed.
Thank you again for the conducted tour. I appreciated and enjoyed it.
Yours sincerely,
AWainwright
LETTER 167: TO MR DOUGHERTY, 6 MARCH 1976
… At present, however, I cannot rid my thoughts of Scotland, and am due to spend a few days at Easter in Skye with two particular expeditions in mind on the Black Cuillin. I last climbed there in 1954, enjoying a heavenly week of perpetual blue skies, and the memory of those wonderful mountains has haunted me ever since. Here, without any doubt, are the finest peaks in these islands, not up to Dolemite standards but of compelling appearance and with the added advantage that you can at least get up on to most of the summits and needn’t just stand and admire from a distance.
The second Scottish book is being published next week. I cannot remember whether you ever asked for a companion to Coire na Feola, but just in case you would like another I have asked the Gazette to enclose details with the leaflet they will be sending to you in a few days.
With very best wishes for rapid return to full health. You will feel
a lot better when the daffodils come up in the garden and the sun has some warmth.
Yours sincerely,
AWainwright
LETTER 168: TO MR DOUGHERTY, 29 DECEMBER 1980
… Your descriptions of Ireland’s scenery are mouth-watering. My wife, who lived there for five years, is always begging me to go and see the delights of the island for myself, but so far the unrest there has put me off. However it is on my itinerary for the next few years and has been brought forward by your account of the pleasures to be found along the western seaboard. 1982 perhaps …
In Book Six – the North Western Fells – first published in 1964, AW described how he had spotted a young rowan which had secured a precarious foothold on Hassnesshow Beck, on the way up to Robinson. He asked any kind readers if they would let him know in 1970 if it was still alive and well.
In 1970, lots of people did write to him, including Tommy Orr from Whitehaven, who had gone up with a party and taken photographs.
LETTER 169: TO TOMMY ORR, 7 MARCH 1970
38 Kendal Green, Kendal.
Dear Mr Orr
I was absolutely delighted to receive your confirmation that the young rowan on the way up Robinson from Hassness is still alive and well. Indeed it is flourishing exceedingly, judging by the photographs you were kind enough to send along with your amusing illustrated report. The last time I saw it, in 1963, ’twas but a tiny two-branched sprig. From time to time, since then, I have been kept aware of its progress by other walkers who have passed that way, but yours is the first notification in 1970 and the first photographic evidence that has been supplied. The presentation of your report shows commendable initiative and talent, and I shall treasure it. Clearly the weather conditions were such that only the most intrepid of alpinists would venture forth on those cruel slopes of snow, and the whole party is to be congratulated on a performance that can surely seldom have been bettered. I have a new respect for the inhabitants of Whitehaven and especially its females.
The Wainwright Letters Page 29
