Some eight years ago chance led me to the Lake District for the first time, and a kindly acquaintance whom I then met at Wastdale taught me something of the joys of rock-climbing. Since that occasion every holiday has been spent on the mountains, either in Cumberland or North Wales or Switzerland, and they have taught me much that is worth knowing and that when once learnt can never be forgotten. Men with the highest literary qualifications have written of the charm of mountaineering, and every aspect of the subject has been touched upon with fullest justice and with a grace of style that has captivated many a non-climber in spite of his prejudices. Yet I cannot refrain from adding my own humble tribute of praise to the sport that has done so much for me and my best friends.

It satisfies many needs; the love of the beautiful in nature; the desire to exert oneself physically, which with strong men is a passionate craving that must find satisfaction somehow or other; the joy of conquest without any woe to the conquered; the prospect of continual increase in one’s skill, and the hope that this skill may partially neutralize the failing in strength that comes with advancing age or ill-health.

Hunting and fishing enthral many men, but mountaineering does not claim the sacrifice of beasts and fishes. Cricket and football are magnificent sports, and it is a perpetual satisfaction that the British races are becoming enthusiastic in their appreciation of keen contests in these games. Yet there is something repulsive in the spectacle of five thousand inactive spectators of a struggling twenty-two, and the knowledge that the main interest of many players and observers is of a monetary character does not tend to convince one of the moral benefits that these sports can offer. On the other hand, it is scarcely fair to judge a sport by those who degrade it in this manner, and we all know that genuine cricketers and footballers play for love and honour.

The mountaineer does not reap any golden harvest by his exertions—even if he writes a book on his subject. He does not exhibit his skill to applauding thousands; and his vanity is rarely tickled by the praise of many. He must be content with the sport itself and what it offers him directly.

Probably the scientific mountaineer gains most. He is certain to acquire rare and valuable knowledge of facts in zoology, botany, or geology, if he starts with the necessary intellectual equipment. The physicist’s mind is perpetually exercised by the natural phenomena he witnesses; mist bows, Brocken spectres, frost haloes, electrical discharges of the queerest description, mirages, all these offer him problems of the most interesting kind. But the fact is, there is so much to do that is directly connected with the climbing itself that the natural sciences are usually left to themselves, and their consideration reserved for special expeditions.

On the other hand, science can often assist the climbing. The engineer can triumph with applications of the rope. He can tell us some facts worth knowing on the value of friction as an aid to stability, on the use of an axe as a support or as a lever, or on the safe methods of negotiating loose stones. The man who knows something of geology is a useful member of an exploring party; he is often able to guess correctly where available passages occur in a wilderness of rock, and can judge at a distance what quality of climbing the party may expect. The expert in mountain weather does not exist; perhaps he does not dare to, or perhaps the subject is too complicated for a nineteenth-century scientist. However this may be, it is worth while paying a little attention to meteorology and noting the quality of weather that follows any definite condition of the wind, the barometer, or the atmospheric temperature.

The causes that have resulted in the publication of this little book are as difficult to define as those that produce a rainy day in the Alps; and, now that the book is written and nothing remains but an introduction, I wish that the reverse order of proceeding had been adopted, and that the introduction had been written as a peg on which succeeding chapters might have been definitely hung.

From the outset the illustrations have been regarded as the chief feature of the book, and it was my good fortune early to obtain the co-operation of Messrs. G. P. Abraham & Sons in the production of good photographs of the most interesting pieces of rock scenery that the Lake District affords. Messrs. George and Ashley Abraham have accompanied me on several climbing excursions with the express purpose of obtaining artistic and yet accurate photographs of the main difficulties that beset the cragsman’s course, and I am bound to add that they are as skilful in tackling severe pitches as they are in taking successful pictures. The practical troubles in manipulating heavy photographic apparatus where most people find work enough in looking solely to their own safety, the frequent impossibility of finding a sufficient contrast in light and shade among the crag recesses, and the subsequent difficulties in development of such awkward subjects, will convince the reader that theirs has been no light task, and at the same time will offer sufficient excuse for certain small defects that we have been unable to eliminate from the photo-mechanical reproductions. These are in collotype on platino-surface paper which shows the fine texture of the rock structures.

For the benefit more particularly of climbers several outline diagrams have been introduced to explain the outlines of those more important crags up each of which many different routes have been found, lines of ascent that cannot be readily recognised in the photographs themselves, and that cannot be briefly described in words. Some of these are purely diagrammatic, where it has been found impossible to base them on good general views. The others are outlined from photographs, and can in most cases be compared directly with the corresponding views from which they are derived.

With the knowledge that I was getting substantial aid in the illustrative portion of the book, the management of the rest has been much simplified. There are very many people who come regularly to the English Lake District to ramble about on the fells and to make the ordinary ascents. Of these, by far the greater number steer clear of the precipices and other steep parts, wisely recognising the danger that attends the inexperienced in such places. Nevertheless, they enjoy the mountains and are charmed with the scenery. They do not know much about the innermost recesses of even their favourite peaks. To many of them Mr. Haskett Smith’s little book on ‘Climbing in England’ must have been a revelation; for it indicates with sufficient clearness that every crag in the country of any considerable dimensions has been explored with wonderful thoroughness by Alpine climbers, and that these abrupt walls and gloomy gullies are the happy hunting-ground of many an enterprising athlete. If my accounts of the different ascents were briefly stated in the orthodox climbing-guide form, the book could appeal to none but the elect; only an athlete in excellent training could digest such solid diet. If, on the other hand, they were recorded in narrative form, with a little expansion of detail where serious difficulties occurred during the expeditions, the book might at the same time appeal to many a tourist who loves the country and who likes to learn more about it. The latter course has been adopted, and it is sincerely to be hoped that the succeeding chapters will interest such tourists.

There was another and more important consideration which helped to decide on the form actually taken. Our Alpine climbers of the highest rank are born, not made. But most of the others, taking with them some natural aptitude and plenty of money, are made abroad. Why do they not take their preliminary training for a year or two in Wales, or Cumberland, or on the Scottish hills? It would be much wiser and cheaper to support the ‘home industry’ so far as it goes, before making their dÉbuts on the high Alps. Our British hills can give them no glacier practice, but they can learn a vast deal concerning rock-climbing before they leave the country. To such as these the book is primarily dedicated. There are no professional guides in Cumberland who know anything about the rocks. The amateur must come out and manage for himself. But it is here intended to show that the Cumberland school is a well-graded one; that the novice can start with the easiest and safest of expeditions, and can work his way up to a standard of skill comparing favourably with that of the average Swiss guide. There is nothing so instructive as guideless climbing, be it ever so humble in character. It makes the man wonderfully critical when taken in hand by guides later on, and renders him also much more able to profit by their practical instruction.

For such beginners, the mere statement of the position of a gully and the number and character of its chief obstacles would be quite useless. He requires something more; a suggestion here and there of the manner in which the troubles can be avoided or overcome, and a comparison of these difficulties with others. It is natural that every man has his own way of employing the limbs; my way of dealing with a pitch might not at all suit another climber, who perhaps relies less upon balance and more on strength of arm than myself, or vice versÂ. It is therefore unwise to appear dogmatic in describing methods, and I hasten to assure those knowing critics that I have never meant to appear so. And yet it is none the less a definite object throughout to render the accounts in sufficient detail for those who want assistance in repeating the ascents. I have not hesitated to draw on old experiences, gained when the ground was comparatively new to me; for there is a tendency to depreciate, or indeed to overlook entirely, the difficulties in any familiar route after constant practice has removed those elements that introduce risk or uncertainty of success, and a novice can often explain to a novice far more effectively than an expert.

The Lake District is becoming more popular every year as a centre of operations for cragsmen. Yet there is no corresponding development of a set of professional guides out there, though I believe they would thrive exceedingly, and all stock information about the mountains is confined to a few manuscript books, and to Mr. Haskett Smith’s little publication already referred to. The new comer is continually at a loss for details; he has no means of learning what is difficult or easy, how to circumvent dangerous obstacles or to discover the safe points of attacking them; he is dependent for such facts on chance acquaintances made in the country or on correspondence more or less painfully elicited from authorities. When unsuccessful in these ways he is sometimes tempted to launch out on his own account and wrest the information from the mountains themselves. This heroic method is undoubtedly the most effective, but it involves too much risk for the unpractised hand, and the wonder is that so few serious casualties occur in its application. Such accidents do occur through ignorance of the district, and always will so long as the necessary knowledge that gives safety to the explorer is confined to the few.

Mr. Haskett Smith’s book serves in the fullest manner to indicate where good scrambling can be obtained, to define the few technical terms in the cragsman’s vocabulary, and to give general advice concerning the best centres. It has been of the greatest use to the climbing fraternity, who owe their thanks to him. But he gives no detail of the scrambling itself. He has appealed more particularly to the expert, who can manage all his pioneering for himself. Notably is this the case with the Pillar Rock—practically his own particular preserve—where most of the routes have long since been made out by him. For years he knew the Rock as no one else knew it; every chimney and ridge and wall was within his ken. Yet in his little handbook there is scarcely an indication of the possession of all this unique knowledge. Most climbers expected some expansion in the description of his early explorations; but he has kept rigidly to his scheme of treatment, and dealt but scant justice to himself throughout the work. This book, then, is to be regarded in some sense as supplementary in character, the cordial witness of the good sport obtainable by following his advice and general directions.

There are many men who think well of the sport, but speak slightingly of the narrow field offered for it by the Lake District. No doubt the Alps offer far more scope both in range and quality. But we cannot very conveniently reach Switzerland at every season of the year. At Christmas and Easter it is entirely barred to most people. The expense of foreign travel is a consideration, and the question of length of holiday is rarely negligible. Cumberland can be reached in a night from London; the district is an inexpensive one for tourists. The fact that there are hundreds of climbs at our disposal in the Alps is no great inducement in itself; we can never climb more than one or two at a time, and for most of us there will always remain scores of ascents that we shall never have the opportunity of accomplishing. One can learn how to swim as effectively in a swimming-bath six feet deep as in an ocean; and one can gain an extensive and practical acquaintance with rock-climbing in a district where the whole set of climbs can be accomplished by the expert in a few short holidays, as in a country where the choice is unlimited. Personally I should always go to the high Alps when the chance offered itself, but Cumberland serves remarkably well to allay the desire for mountain air and vigorous exercise when Switzerland is out of the question.

What does it matter that a climb has been done before? Climatic conditions and the members of one’s party introduce sufficient variety. Years ago an expert reporter was trying to teach me shorthand. His method was to induce me to copy out the same report again and again; it was an excellent idea, and the system was well vindicated with apter pupils. Likewise in climbing, an apt pupil will learn rapidly by repetition of the same ascents.

This introduces a point on which I am scarcely qualified to speak, that of physical aptitude on the part of the would-be climber. Mr. Clinton Dent in the Badminton volume bestows a chapter on the subject of ‘Mountaineering and Health.’ Here we have an authoritative summary of the physical qualifications required by the mountaineer, and of the bodily ailments he may possibly incur. A perusal of the chapter will convince the reader of the suitability of a mountainous region such as our own country can offer for preliminary training before the high Alps are approached. There is much less likelihood of over-strain; snow-blindness, frost-bite, and mountain sickness are rarely met with here.

Climbers are absolutely incapable of any sustained effort when they reach certain altitudes, and the limit depends on the individual. It is the misfortune of some to feel an uncomfortable perturbation of the heart when once a definite level is passed. They are well enough able to exert themselves below that level, but can hope for no pleasurable exercise above it. With every desire to climb, with muscle and mind enough to excel in the sport, they are nevertheless debarred from enjoying the high Alps. Let them therefore make the best of our British hills for a while, and then perhaps proceed to the Dolomites in the Austrian Tyrol for fuller applications at a safe low level of what they have here learnt.

Solitary scrambling is universally condemned. Most climbers of experience have learnt something about it, and are unanimous in their unfavourable judgment. Nothing teaches the scrambler so quickly, if his nerve is sufficiently strong; but the penalty paid for slight mistakes is often extreme, and the risk is too great for him to be justified in deliberately choosing the single-handed venture. A party of two makes the strongest combination for most of the ordinary Cumberland climbs; three are generally better for the severest courses. Any beyond that number will to a greater or less extent increase the difficulty of the ascent and the time spent in effecting it.

A rough classification is here appended of over a hundred well-known courses judged under good conditions. They are divided into four sets. The first are easy and adapted for beginners, the second set are moderately stiff, those of the third set rank as the difficult climbs of the district, and the last are of exceptional severity. Some attempt has been made to arrange them in their order of difficulty, the hardest ones coming last; but the variations of condition of each due to wind, temperature, rain, snow, or ice are so extensive that no particular value should be attached to the sequence. But even if only approximately correct, the lists may help men in deciding for themselves where to draw the line that shall limit their own unaided performances. As for the items in the fourth class, they are best left alone. Mark the well-known words of an expert (Mr. C. Pilkington): ‘The novice must on no account attempt them. He may console himself with the reflection that most of these fancy bits of rock-work are not mountaineering proper, and by remembering that those who first explored these routes, or rather created them, were not only brilliant rock gymnasts but experienced and capable cragsmen.’

Easy Courses.

Deep Ghyll, by the west wall traverse.
Cust’s Gully, Great End.
Traverse across Gable Crag.
‘Sheep Walk,’ Gable Crag.
D Gully, Pike’s Crag.
Broad Stand.
Needle Gully.
‘Slab and Notch’ Route, Pillar Rock.
Great End Central Gully (ordinary ways).
South-east Gully, Great End.

Moderate Courses.

West Climb, Pillar Rock.
C Gully, Pike’s Crag.
A Gully, Pike’s Crag.
Bottle-nosed Pinnacle Ridge.
Westmorland Crag, Great Gable.
Penrith Climb, Scawfell.
Scawfell Chimney.
Old Wall Route. Pillar Rock, East Side.
Deep Ghyll (ordinary route).
Scawfell Pinnacle (short way up).
Dolly Waggon Pike Gully.
Raven Crag Chimney, Great Gable.
Crag Fell Pinnacles, Ennerdale.
Gable Crag Central Gully (ordinary way).
Black Chimney (High Stile).
Pendlebury Traverse Route, Pillar Rock.
Combe Ghyll.
Fleetwith Gully (easy way).
Arrowhead Branch Gully
Smoking Rock, Great Doup, Pillar Fell.
Professor’s Chimney.
Needle Ridge, Great Gable.
Pillar Rock, the ArÊte.
Arrowhead Ridge, by Traverse from East Side.
Eagle’s Nest Ridge (ordinary way).

Difficult Courses.

Deep Ghyll West Wall Climb.
Great End Central Gully (chimney finish).
Pillar Rock by Central Jordan.
The Doctor’s Chimney.
Shamrock Buttress.
Pillar Rock by West Jordan.
Kern Knotts Chimney.
Little Gully, Pavey Ark.
Great Gully, Pavey Ark.
Gable Crag Central Gully (direct finish).
Oblique Chimney Gable Crag.
Gable Needle.
Arrowhead Ridge (direct climb).
Pillar Rock Far West Jordan.
Gimmer Crag Chimney.
Doe Crag, Great Gully.
Pillar Rock by the Great Chimney.
The B Chimney, Pike’s Crag.
Scawfell Pinnacle, by Steep Ghyll.
Pavey Ark, Crescent Climb, and Gwynne’s Chimney.
Keswick Brothers’ Climb.
Pillar Rock, West Jordan Crack.
Doe Crag Buttresses (ordinary routes).
Sergeant Crag Gully (ordinary way).
Mouse Ghyll.
Pillar Rock (by north face).
Smuggler’s Chimney, Gable Crag.
Rake End Chimney, Pavey Ark.
Moss Ghyll (by branch exit).
Bowfell Buttress.
New West Climb (Pillar Rock).
The Brothers’ Crack, Great End.
Sergeant Crag Gully (direct).
Keswick Brothers’ Climb (variation finish).
Stack Ghyll, Buttermere.
Bleaberry Chimney, Buttermere.
Deep Ghyll (by various routes).
Collier’s Climb, Scawfell.
Raven Crag Gully, Glaramara.
Moss Ghyll (by direct finish).
West Jordan Gully, Pillar Rock.
Shamrock Chimneys.
Fleetwith Gully (direct).
Shamrock Gully (left-hand route).
Kern Knotts West Chimney.
Shamrock Buttress (Route II).
Shamrock Gully (ordinary route).
Pisgah Ridge, by the Tennis Court Ledge.
Iron Crag Chimney.
Engineer’s Chimney, Gable Crag.
Eagle’s Nest Ridge by Ling Chimney.

Exceptionally Severe Courses.

Doe Crag, Intermediate Gully.
Scawfell Pinnacle, High Man (direct from Deep Ghyll).
Gimmer Crag, B route.
The Abbey Buttress, Great Gable.
Screes Great Gully (direct).
Doe Crag, North Gully.
Gimmer Crag, A Route.
Toreador Gully, Buttermere.
Birkness Chimney, Buttermere.
Warn Gill, Buttermere.
Haskett Gully, Scoat Fell.
Doe Crag, Easter Gully, O. G. Jones’ Route.
Scawfell Pinnacle vi Low Man by Deep Ghyll, Gibson’s Chimney.
Scawfell Pinnacle by Deep Ghyll, O. G. Jones’ Route.
Kern Knotts Crack.
North Face Pillar Rock, by Hand Traverse.
Doe Crag, Easter Gully, by Hopkinson’s Crack.
Doe Crag, Central Chimney.
Eagle’s Nest Ridge, Great Gable.
Doe Crag, Easter Gully, by Broadrick’s Crack.
Walker’s Gully.
C Gully, the Screes.
North West Climb, Pillar Rock.
Scawfell Pinnacle (direct from Lord’s Rake), O. G. Jones’ Route.

In every expedition the party should be provided with a sufficient length of rope—varying from twenty to fifty feet for two men, thirty to eighty feet for three—according to the character of the climb and the lengths of its individual pitches. It is very unwise to dispense with the rope, even on simple courses; the fact is patent in the Alps that amateurs take a long time to learn how to look after their portion of the rope when busily engaged on rocks; they are apt to leave all such details to the guides in front or behind them, and would do well to practise regular independence in that respect.

Ice-axes are generally necessary during the colder months of the year. They are inconvenient to manipulate on very difficult rocks, whether the climber is going up or down. But in the rapid descent of easy crags, face outwards, they are invaluable as aids to balancing; and steep grass or scree can undoubtedly be descended better with their assistance. The Cumberland crags are too smooth to make scarpetti (Kletterschuhe) worth trying. These are rope-soled shoes that grip better than nailed boots when the texture of the rock-surface is sufficiently rough, but our expeditions are best made without them.