Ramblings
Saunterings
Ramblings: about North-West England
Ramblings is a set of articles about North-West England, of unknown authorship and
indeterminate date, believed to have been written for amusement on rainy days,
which are not unknown in North-West England.
39. Sam, Sarah and Sara
Once upon a time there was a young man called Sam and ...
Actually, if I may interrupt myself here, Sam was no longer a
young man at the time I’m thinking of - August 5th 1802. He was
thirty years old, with a wife and son.
In his twenties, unhinged by the French Revolution, which
had nothing to do with him, and an unhappy love affair, which
did, he had gone off to fight for the 15th Light Dragoons, calling
himself Silas Comberbache, which just shows how confused he
was, because, as I have already said, he was really called Sam.
And if I may interrupt my interruption, I wonder: What’s
wrong with the 1st, 2nd, and so on Light Dragoons?; What’s ‘light’
about them?; Do you have to be dragooned into fighting for the
Dragoons?; Did they know that dragoons are fancy pigeons?; Was
it a misprint for Dragons?
Where was I? Ah, yes,
not-so-young Sam.
After the Light Dragoons,
he dreamed of setting up a
utopian commune in New
England, old England being
quite unsuitable for such a
concept. When this came
to 0, his dreams turned to
nightmares: he married Sarah,
which seemed a good idea at
the time, as his friend Robert
wanted to marry her sister
Edith, and they could halve
the wedding expenses.
Later, another friend,
William, fell in love with and married a Mary, who happened to have a sister called Sara, without
an h. Following tradition, Sam felt duty-bound to fall in love with
her, which he did, although he could not, of course, marry her as
well. Still, at least he could murmur in his sleep and his wife would
suspect nothing.
Unfortunately, young Sara
was not convinced by Sam’s outpourings of love, expressed
in innumerable poems. Besides, there was Sarah.
So, dreamer that he was, Sam decided on an exploit to
demonstrate the depths of his affection. He would go to the highest
point of England and proclaim his love for Sara to all points of the
compass. He toiled up from Wasdale by the Green How route to
the top of Scafell and there, after writing a long letter to his beloved
(Sara, that is, not Sarah), he stood up to bellow
“I, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, avow to the whole of England
that I am deeply enamoured of you, my dearest Sara”.
He shouted it to the west, and then again to the south, and
again to the east, and ... “Shit” he said, for even poets have their
moments of indelicacy. He saw, over to the northeast, some rocks
that looked even higher than where he stood.
There was nothing for it: to complete his exploit he needed
to get over there quickly, as the light was fading and a storm was
looming. He made a bee-line for the new top, dropping down the
sheer cliffs of Broad Stand.
Many times he was very nearly head over heels in love. As he
descended he realised, looking back up, that he could not possibly
re-climb the cliffs. He had no choice but to continue down.
Eventually, he somehow reached the safety of what we now
call Mickledore. But with shaky legs and heat bumps and, thinking
that Sara would never know he hadn’t got to the real top of England,
he retreated into Eskdale.
But Sara was not so foolish as to fall for a man who sets out
for the top of England without knowing where it is. Poor Sam,
increasingly addicted to opium, became suicidal and therefore
moved to Wiltshire.
Still, all was not in vain. His ridiculous expedition on Broad
Stand is now regarded as the first recorded instance of mountain-climbing
in the Lake District. In fact, he didn’t mountain-climb at
all. He mountain-descended, rather precipitately. And in another
fact, although he became a revered man of literature he is better
known in the Lake District for his epic descent of Broad Stand than
he is for any of his poems about the Lakes.
So, if you want to be remembered as a literary man do not drop
your hs.
Photos:
Sam in his mountain climbing gear.
Broad Stand, scene of the Lake District’s first mountain descent.
Comments:
• Ah, I've worked out who the other individuals
mentioned are: the poets Robert
Southey and William Wordsworth, with the two pairs of sisters
being Edith and Sarah Fricker and Mary and Sara Hutchinson.
• I have read Taylor Coleridge’s
own account of this event and he says nothing about shouting from the top
of Scafell or about realising that he was not at the highest point of
England.
Ramblings
Saunterings
© John Self, Drakkar Press, 2024-
Top photo: Rainbow over Kisdon in Swaledale;
Bottom photo: Ullswater