“Aaaaah! Wait! My shoe came off!” she yells as the others run up the hill, squelching and slipping through the mud. A tour of Crow Park with a group of children brings the place to life in a new way for me. I’m visiting the site in early March with a small group from St Herbert’s Primary School. The kids take me breathlessly from one landmark to another, reading aloud the text on the UNESCO plaque, telling me funny stories about the time they met Prince Charles, and explaining the many games that can be played on this mostly featureless hill.
The plaque includes a description of ancient oak forest being felled on Crow Park and the vista this opened up: From that moment visitors to Keswick were able to see a vast new panorama... travellers, writers and artists were drawn to the valley. I ask the kids what this place means to them, and what it’s like living in such a famous landscape. There's a mix of responses - they tell me that it’s both beautiful and very familiar, 'it's just where we live'. George describes his experience of moving through the landscape in a really striking way: 'I think of it as a relaxing movie, a documentary. London's like an action movie, and here it's like a nature documentary. Your eyes are the camera and your voice is like a narration of what's going on. A bit like when blind people watch movies and listen to it like “Harry Potter walks into the corner of Snape's room.”'
I love this visual description of the landscape, the idea that your head is the camera and your thoughts are the voiceover – each of us carrying a different narrative that we superimpose on the landscape. This reminds me of a workshop years ago, where a tutor asked us to map out the constellation of thoughts, songs, people, movies, and ideas that we carried with us as we walked.
My whistlestop tour of Crow Park with the kids brings a new set of landmarks and meaning to my attention. ‘Here’s where we play tig, race, play Avengers. This is the best spot for sledging in the winter. Stand here to get the best photos. You need to stick to the path so you don’t get muddy. Sometimes I like to get muddy. In the summer you can climb the trees and have a picnic. It’s always windy. Down by the lake you can skim stones and paddle..’ We spend some time finding a perfect stone for skimming and discussing the best technique.
Over the centuries since those oak trees were felled, Crow Park has been used as a place for leisure for locals and visiting pleasure-seekers. One of Derwent Island's most famous residents, Joseph Pocklington built a racecourse around Crow Park, the remains of which are still evident in a long terrace running around the back of the hill. He also held regular regattas – one of the infamous stories shared with me is of 'King Pocky' having live cannons fired at competitors in the lake to add a bit of extra excitement to the event.
Archeologist Jamie Lund tells me about the long history of fairs and races in Cumbria – from regattas, shepherd's fairs and horse races to Cumberland wrestling and fell races. Fell racing began in the Lakes, and was part of traditional Lakeland shows – where they were sometimes called guides races. From the 1780s onwards, local shepherds and farmers acted as guides for the tourists and these events were a way to show their skills. Jamie tells me that agricultural shows probably have a more ancient history based around the commons. Sheep stray and need returning, so people would meet on the watershed to return sheep - but also off the back of that there was lots of social activity, communal gathering, and the chance to gain prestige for being a good shepherd.
By the mid nineteenth century, when the railway reached Windermere, the Lake District was getting a large number of visitors. As long as the urban population had the time and money to escape, they did. For Victorians, Lake District tourism wasn't all about fell walking - it would be a day trip, a boat on the lake, a picnic by the lake shore. In 2019, the Lakes had 9 million visitors – which both brings a lot to the local economy and puts pressure on the landscape and infrastructure. In 2020 the question of tourism in national beauty spots has faced a new set of controversies in light of the pandemic – I'll revisit that in another blog.*
The kids tell me they like to share the beauty of where they live with visitors, but there's some difference of opinion on how much entertainment should be laid on. Some feel that the landscape should be left as it is and others suggest Crow Park would be better with some play equipment and the lakeshore needs a few more places to get drinks and ice cream.
As we walk through the gate into the partially flooded Isthmus, where the bent willow trees form a dark tunnel, the chat turns to imaginative realms. ‘It’s like the trees are going to attack you, like a goblin in a swamp. No it’s like that really good bit when you need to wake up but you’re not awake yet.’ We practice the best way to make owl noises and Lotte tells me that in the autumn the mountains are a patchwork of colour, like Elmer the elephant.
* My walk with St Herbert's pupils happened just before lockdown. In a normal summer, the lakeshore would be teeming with tourists and Crow Park would act as a venue for the Regatta and Mountain Festival. Due to the coronavirus pandemic both of these events were cancelled, and for several months noone from outside the area was able to visit Keswick.
This blog is part of ongoing research for a socially engaged art project With the North Lakes National Trust focusing on Crow Park in Keswick. For more information please see the project page.
Thanks to Sarah Renton, Bella, George, Lotte, Tabion and Zoey from St Herbert’s Primary School; and Jamie Lund (Archeologist and Cultural Heritage Advisor for the National Trust).
Advertisment for Pocklington’s Regatta, 1789. Keswick Museum.