Sanctuary

The announcement that Lord Bryce intends to move for the appointment of a Commission to safeguard the natural beauty of the English Lake District and similar places has come as an agreeable surprise to those who have long been crying, not only “in the wilderness,” but for the preservation of the wilderness—for the rescue, that is, from the bands of the commercialist, of Nature’s few remaining strongholds in this very civilised land. For it is certain that unless we soon make our choice between protecting and perpetuating the wild and distinctive features of such districts, or allowing them to be entirely utilised and exploited for private gain, the time for choice will have gone by; for the sake of gold we shall have killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. In another fifty years there may be no mountains in this country other than unsightly slag heaps, unless we quickly recognise that it is from its very wildness that the rare and peculiar value of mountain scenery is drawn.

In any discussion of this subject the Lake District at once, and rightly, springs to the mind; yet there are other mountain tracts which, though scarcely less beautiful, have suffered vastly more. The desecration of Snowdon, a finer mountain in itself than any which Cumberland can boast, is a truly shocking sight to those mountain-lovers who knew it 40 years ago: but Snowdon is private property, and men may do what they like with their own. Nor will the vandalism stop at the point it has reached; it is even now being extended to those wild uplands, a few miles north-east of Snowdon, of which the highest point is Carnedd Llewelyn: where Llyn Llugwy, one of the loneliest and most shapely tarns in Carnarvonshire, is being tapped, and its waters diverted, for the sake of the “power” works at Dolgarrog. As in the case of Snowdon, the bare mountain range, which until lately has remained in almost primitive condition, will be grievously scarred and defaced.

What, then, is to be done? The appeal is to those who know the real value of mountain scenery; and that there are many such is shown by the sentiment which more than once has saved the Sty-head Pass from the threatened affront. A point has been reached where combined action is absolutely necessary, if the lakes and mountains that still remain to us are to be saved for future generations. The mere rescue is in the long run useless, for the forces of destruction work faster than the influences that would save. Nothing but nationalisation, or, at the least, a Government department with power to prevent such vandalism as that of which I have spoken, can now avail. What is needed is the “reservation” of certain districts, such as the Cumberland Lakes, the Peak of Derbyshire, and the Carnarvonshire highlands as mountain sanctuaries, and abiding-places for all wild life; where not the scenery only, but the birds and plants, whose life is of the hills and by the streams, shall be saved as a lasting joy and possession. Would there be anything unreasonable or arbitrary in such a course? Even Wordsworth remarked that mountains are “a sort of national property, in which every man has a right and interest who has an eye to perceive and a heart to enjoy.” Since that was said, much that was of the utmost value (if the people had known it) has been ruined. The question that now remains is this: Will the nation awake to the seriousness of the final loss with which it is threatened, before that loss has become an accomplished fact?