WAINWRIGHT was and is an enigma. A faceless companion through the wilderness of Lakeland, he guides the weary-of-foot to some of the finest landscapes on the planet. His handwritten pocket-books remain classics. There is wit and enthusiasm within their pages, each new leaf providing fresh joy. Until now, however, little was publicly known about the private life of Alfred Wainwright. Even the bare facts, such as his first name, his marital status, his occupation and, to be blunt, whether or not he was alive, were shrouded in intrigue until well after he began to publish.
During his lifetime Wainwright, Alf, AW, Alfred or Red, depending on who was addressing him, liked his private life to remain just that. Shunning the limelight only added to the mystery and when he finally "came out" to the media, when the world first saw the sturdily-built, kindly-faced old man, it was strictly on his terms. It is now four years since his death. Author and journalist Hunter Davies - biographer of The Beatles - lives in the Lake District half the year and has written several books about Lakeland. He's also a self-confessed Wainwright fanatic. Today his book Wainwright: The Biography is published. RICHARD SLATER had a read . . . FOR MORE than 30 years, Alfred Wainwright, born on Audley Range, Blackburn, in 1907, was in a loveless marriage.
This is not conjecture, nor intended as a means of grabbing attention. It is a fact and is absolutely central to the literary career of AW.
A traditionally-held view, engendered by Wainwright himself, was that the marriage broke down because of his walking. Hunter Davies, on reading this, challenged the assertion and began his research into one of his heroes (the others being Paul McCartney and Glenn Hoddle) from a different angle - that Wainwright's obsession with fell-walking emerged as a result of his unhappy union. He walked to get out of the house and away from a woman he did not love. Ruth and AW married in 1931 at Furthergate Congregational Church, Blackburn. Their son Peter was born two years later. The couple barely communicated after that, save a brief period when the family relocated to Kendal.
The first public signs of disintegration were in 1941 when Ruth and Peter left Alfred for a time but, with hindsight, the problems began even before that. Already AW had begun his literary leanings at the office, writing mocking and satirical articles about his colleagues, penning caricatures and portraits of them and his own heroes, Blackburn Rovers (he helped form the official supporters club). But in 1939, he secretly wrote a fictional story about Michael Wayne, his wife and their son Peter. "It's heartbreaking stuff," said Davies. "It came out quite early in the research and Betty (AW's second wife) let me look at it."
Davies has little doubt that this chapter is autobiographical, talking as it does about a barren marriage and a dream woman Michael Wayne knew he would one day meet.
"I gave her my heart long ago and I am her slave until I die," says Wayne. Says Wainwright.
In various letters, many to workmate Lawrence Wolstenholme, who still lives in Blackburn, AW talked suggestively about the opposite sex.
There is nothing too sinister in this, suggests Davies, just men's talk. But his constant references to and fantasies about women he worked with, women he met, and a host of women he may well have just invented, point to an imagination making up for a dead life at home with Ruth. Against this sad background, Wainwright immersed himself in his Lakeland explorations.
He boasted to friends that he would one day write a guide to the fells, and began researching, illustrating and writing in earnest. All this, incidentally, was while he held down a senior position as borough treasurer in Kendal.
In his writings he was unpleasant about Ruth, suggesting she was little more than an ill-educated mill girl who had no intention of bettering herself. Meanwhile he had risen from a humble background, in a home dominated by a drunkard father, to a position of respect and responsibility.
This is certainly unfair on Ruth. She took foreign holidays (he never did) and had an active social life in Blackburn and Kendal (he never did, preferring the less-intimate transfer of information by letter). Then in 1951 he hit upon his grand plan - to climb and record every fell in Lakeland, all 214 of them. Why?
As Davies says: "He himself always said it was a love letter, 'One man's way of expressing his devotion to Lakeland's friendly hills, conceived and born after many years of inarticulate worship'."
It also meant he'd have a ready excuse to avoid his wife until the end of his working life.
His devotion to the task was absolute, the look and effect of his books vitally important. In 1955, after borrowing money, he published, with friends, his first Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells, The Eastern Fells.
The book did well. Two years later he met Betty McNally. He knew instinctively and immediately that this was the woman he'd dreamed of.
A long, passionate affair - mostly by letter - developed. He was besotted, she was charmed. But Red, as Betty called him, could not leave Ruth.
He was a man with position and scandal would not do. The problem was solved when, as AW was achieving more and more literary success, Ruth walked out and they later divorced.
One of the reasons later given was that he had donated £7,000 to the RSPCA while never altering Ruth's £10 a week housekeeping.
As his books continued to sell (his seven pictorial guides have now sold 1.25 million copies and there are another 54 books in print), so did his generosity to animal charities.
They benefited to the tune of £1 million during his lifetime while he barely catered for Betty, whom he married in 1970, in his will and not at all for his arthritis-crippled son.
There is no doubt AW was a complex and paradoxical character.
He could be cruel without realising it, yet to some he was the warmest, gentlest, most caring man they could imagine. He was legendary in his generosity, except sometimes to those closest to him.
His interest in money was nil, though he was brought out of the shadows to provide cash for charities.
He didn't care to be recognised but happily corresponded with all his fans.
Hunter Davies has captured the spirit of a legend in the biography.
There are questions which remain unanswered, which cannot be answered, Davies allowing his readers to draw their own conclusions.
While AW is a hero to Davies, his book is both tribute and analysis.
Having been a fan of AW myself, and turned his pages with delight both on fell and in armchair, I feel closer to the man himself, while the aura of mystique surrounding his writings has remained intact.
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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