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Memoirs of a Fell Wanderer
A delightful and at times revealing memoir details Wainwright's childhood in Blackburn, how he rose from being an office boy in the Borough Treasurer's office in Blackburn to Borough Treasurer itself in Kendal, the fascinating story behind the Pictorial Guides, and his support for animal welfare. The book is illustrated with family photographs as well as his photographs of Lakeland and Scotland, and a selection of his drawings.
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First published June 1, 1993
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About the author
Alfred Wainwright
219 books39 followersAlfred Wainwright was born in Blackburn, Lancashire to Thomas Wainwright and Elizabeth Nixon.[citation needed] His family was relatively poor, mostly due to his stonemason father's alcoholism. He did very well at school (first in nearly every subject)[1] although he left at the age of 13. While most of his classmates were obliged to find employment in the local mills, Wainwright started work as an office boy in Blackburn Borough Engineer's Department. He spent several further years studying at night school, gaining qualifications in accountancy which enabled him to further his career at Blackburn Borough Council. Even when a child Wainwright walked a great deal, up to 20 miles at a time; he also showed a great interest in drawing and cartography, producing his own maps of England and his local area.
In 1930, at the age of 23, Wainwright saved up enough money for a week's walking holiday in the Lake District with his cousin Eric Beardsall. They arrived in Windermere and climbed the nearby hill Orrest Head, where Wainwright saw his first view of the Lakeland fells. This moment marked the start of what he would later describe as his love affair with the Lake District. In 1931 he married his first wife, Ruth Holden, a local mill worker, with whom he had a son Peter. In 1941 Wainwright was able to move closer to the fells when he took a job (and with it a pay cut) at the Borough Treasurer's office in Kendal, Westmorland. He lived and worked in the town for the rest of his life, serving as Borough Treasurer from 1948 until he retired in 1967. His first marriage ended when Ruth walked out three weeks before he retired. They later divorced. In 1970 he married Betty McNally (1922–2008), also a divorcee, who became his walking companion and who eventually carried his ashes to Innominate Tarn at the top of Haystacks.
In 1930, at the age of 23, Wainwright saved up enough money for a week's walking holiday in the Lake District with his cousin Eric Beardsall. They arrived in Windermere and climbed the nearby hill Orrest Head, where Wainwright saw his first view of the Lakeland fells. This moment marked the start of what he would later describe as his love affair with the Lake District. In 1931 he married his first wife, Ruth Holden, a local mill worker, with whom he had a son Peter. In 1941 Wainwright was able to move closer to the fells when he took a job (and with it a pay cut) at the Borough Treasurer's office in Kendal, Westmorland. He lived and worked in the town for the rest of his life, serving as Borough Treasurer from 1948 until he retired in 1967. His first marriage ended when Ruth walked out three weeks before he retired. They later divorced. In 1970 he married Betty McNally (1922–2008), also a divorcee, who became his walking companion and who eventually carried his ashes to Innominate Tarn at the top of Haystacks.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
November 26, 2022
For anyone interested in England’s Lake District and its peerless companion set, the Wainwright walking guides, this autobiography provides a fascinating insight into the mind and character of their creator.
Born into poverty at the tail-end of the Industrial Revolution, the book charts his rise from Blackburn’s satanic mills to Cumbria’s blessed hills, an inspiring tale of fortitude and fortune.
The single-minded dedication that it took to tramp, survey, chart, photograph, draw and minutely describe every inch of Lakeland fellside required superhuman willpower, and by the author’s own admission was conducted at the expense of all else outside working hours. The revelation that he went on to produce another 50-odd books beyond the 7 definitive ‘Pictorial Guides’ is additionally jaw-dropping.
On the whole I enjoyed the read, and looked forward each time to picking it up. I marvelled at the many familiar photographs – but more so at the accompanying sketches, these as near identical as the eye can discern – which left me wondering what illustrative technique he used. Then, wasn’t it Rembrandt that employed projection for his masterpieces?
On a darker note – and, to be frank, I think a failure of editing (or perhaps weakness in the face of belligerence on behalf of the author) – towards the end there is rogue section in which ‘AW’ (he denied his Christian name of Alfred) propounds some extreme views. Trigger warning … “I rejoice when I hear of a gun going off accidentally and wounding or killing a so-called sportsman” … “our prisons are full of murderers and terrorists and rapists and muggers who could be used (for vivisection)” … and … “football hooliganism would be cured overnight if the penalty was castration”.
His stated preference was to walk alone, and by his own admission he was surly and cantankerous, even in the exchange of a passing “Good day”. Small wonder that fellwalkers got to know to give him a wide berth!
Born into poverty at the tail-end of the Industrial Revolution, the book charts his rise from Blackburn’s satanic mills to Cumbria’s blessed hills, an inspiring tale of fortitude and fortune.
The single-minded dedication that it took to tramp, survey, chart, photograph, draw and minutely describe every inch of Lakeland fellside required superhuman willpower, and by the author’s own admission was conducted at the expense of all else outside working hours. The revelation that he went on to produce another 50-odd books beyond the 7 definitive ‘Pictorial Guides’ is additionally jaw-dropping.
On the whole I enjoyed the read, and looked forward each time to picking it up. I marvelled at the many familiar photographs – but more so at the accompanying sketches, these as near identical as the eye can discern – which left me wondering what illustrative technique he used. Then, wasn’t it Rembrandt that employed projection for his masterpieces?
On a darker note – and, to be frank, I think a failure of editing (or perhaps weakness in the face of belligerence on behalf of the author) – towards the end there is rogue section in which ‘AW’ (he denied his Christian name of Alfred) propounds some extreme views. Trigger warning … “I rejoice when I hear of a gun going off accidentally and wounding or killing a so-called sportsman” … “our prisons are full of murderers and terrorists and rapists and muggers who could be used (for vivisection)” … and … “football hooliganism would be cured overnight if the penalty was castration”.
His stated preference was to walk alone, and by his own admission he was surly and cantankerous, even in the exchange of a passing “Good day”. Small wonder that fellwalkers got to know to give him a wide berth!
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October 10, 2019An interesting read with vivid descriptions of nature's beauty,in England's Lake district.
September 11, 2021
Disappointed to find that he was a cantankerous old fart.
April 25, 2021
This book will resonate with all those who enjoy the freedom of valley, fell, hill and mountain, and have a connection with the landscape that goes much deeper than boot on track. Wainwright provides some biographical details but these seem to get in the way of what he really wants to speak to the reader about, his obsession with fell walking. Once smitten, Lakeland became his real mistress, his true love. Most other things in his life, including work and marriage, filled in the blanks. A crusty loner with a social outlook shaped by his immediate circumstance and the right wing press, Wainwright is idiosyncratic rather than dangerous. Behind the flashes of spleen, is an honest, shy, slightly inadequate, humble man, who spent his life embracing the natural environment in Lakeland, and later elsewhere, while reliving the experience in his many spirited writings and hand drawn maps and illustrations. Wainwright will always be remembered fondly. A giant among walkers. And a man who did all he claimed.
January 10, 2023
Yes, Wainwright was a crusty old fart, but I did enjoy reading about his love of the Lake District. I found it ironic that he bemoans loud tourists at the end of the memoir when he was someone who brought attention to the area with his seven volume Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells. He has some pretty extreme views on people that I don’t agree with (welfare anyone?), and at one point states that depression could probably be cured by climbing Helvellyn by way of Striding Edge (“instead of taking their daily dosage of pills”). LOLZ. Despite all that, I enjoyed his love letter to the Fells.
June 8, 2022
Interesting to read Wainwright’s thoughts on life - he doesn’t hold back! - and I feel like I’ve come to know him somewhat personally after reading this. I was surprised to find, as another reviewer said, he was a “cantankerous old fart”. But I can forgive him that and think fondly of him, like a grumpy old great-uncle that you only see at Christmas. His description of the fells are marvellous though, he writes of them like a poetic lover.
May 19, 2012
The life story of A. Wainwright. He spent his free time walking AKA hiking in the Lake District of England and produced a series of sketchbooks of the Fells. A true gentleman nature lover. Not exactly a fan of hunting and fishing but if you can ignore the paragraph of those rantings it's a worthy read about a lover of the outdoors. He smokes a pipe so how bad a guy can he have been?
May 2, 2008
An extraordinary man with and extraordinary story and passion. Single minded and devoted to the Fells this man single-handedly wrote about and drew the hills and pathways of northern England. This book tells us his story without compromise.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews