Kentmere
The King’s England – The Lake Counties Cumberland/Westmorland by Arthur Mee, 1937:
It is lost to most of us in the lonely depths of the Kentmere Valley. The upper part of the valley, in which Kentmere is the only village, has nobly impressive scenery. The valley runs up into the hills for miles beyond the village, narrowing gradually until it is circled to steep heights. Between parallel ranges on a height of nearly 1000 feet lies Kentmere Reservoir with the gaunt cliffs of Ill Bell towering 1500 feet above it. Down the vale the precipitous Rainsbarrow Crag, descending from Yoke, acts like a gateway to this topmost part of the dale. Only the rough roads from the reservoir leave this grim recess; the other way out is by climbing the steep foot track.
Perhaps only a few of the thousands of visitors who see the smooth and graceful peak of Ill Bell on its western side from Windermere see or suspect that rugged drop on its eastern side into Kent Dale. Kent River, the one Westmorland river reaching the sea entirely through the county so placidly at Arnside, has its highest springs in the midst of the most lonely grandeur.
About a hundred years ago its mile long lake was drained to increase the pasture land; today diatomite is dug from its bed and is processed for industrial use near by.
The ancient church stands at the head of a marsh. It has a yew which has kept sentinel in this lonely place for about 500 years. To this spot they brought St. Cuthbert in his coffin on his way to Durham; here the Saxon saint lay in the church all night. But there is nothing now of those days. The church is 16th century, the painted reredos in red and blue is modern, two brightly painted angels stand guard at the altar. The tower is 19th century.
Near the foot of the rugged Garburn Pass from Kentmere into Troutbeck Vale stands the old Hall, now a farm, with its 14th century tower crumbling away. It has a vaulted cellar and a stairway to the battlements. Here lived 12 generations of the remarkable Gilpin family. Little is left of their home, but their names are woven into our history. They grew up in this remote valley to be preachers, artists, writers, and doctors, men of rare capacity, one of them at least among the choicest spirits of his day, and one of them, Bernard Gilpin, became known as the Apostle of the North.