DOROTHY WORDSWORTH'S JOURNAL
WRITTEN AT GRASMERE
(FROM 10TH OCTOBER 1801 TO 29TH DECEMBER 1801)
EXTRACTS FROM DOROTHY WORDSWORTH'S JOURNAL, WRITTEN AT GRASMERE, FROM
10TH OCTOBER 1801 TO 29TH DECEMBER 1801
_Saturday, 10th October 1801._--Coleridge went to Keswick, after we had
built Sara's seat.
_Thursday, 15th._-- ... Coleridge came in to Mr. Luff's while we were at
dinner. William and I walked up Loughrigg Fell, then by the
waterside....
_Saturday, 24th._--Attempted Fairfield, but misty, and we went no
further than Green Head Gill to the sheepfold; mild, misty, beautifully
soft. Wm. and Tom put out the boat....
_Sunday, 25th._--Rode to Legberthwaite with Tom, expecting Mary.... Went
upon Helvellyn. Glorious sights. The sea at Cartmel. The Scotch
mountains beyond the sea to the right. Whiteside large, and round, and
very soft, and green, behind us. Mists above and below, and close to us,
with the sun amongst them. They shot down to the coves. Left John
Stanley's[37] at 10 minutes past 12. Returned thither 1/4 past 4, drank
tea, ate heartily. Before we went on Helvellyn we got bread and cheese.
Paid 4/ for the whole. Reached home at nine o'clock. A soft grey
evening; the light of the moon, but she did not shine on us. Mary and I
sate in C.'s room a while.
[Footnote 37: The landlord of Wytheburn Inn.--ED.]
* * * * * *
_Tuesday, 10th_ [_November_].--Poor C. left us, and we came home
together. We left Keswick at 2 o'clock and did not arrive at Grasmere
till 9 o'clock. I burnt myself with Coleridge's aquafortis. C. had a
sweet day for his ride. Every sight and every sound reminded me of
him--dear, dear fellow, of his many talks to us, by day and by night, of
all dear things. I was melancholy, and could not talk, but at last I
eased my heart by weeping--nervous blubbering says William. It is not
so. O! how many, many reasons have I to be anxious for him.
_Wednesday, 11th._-- ... Put aside dearest C.'s letters, and now, at
about 7 o'clock, we are all sitting by a nice fire. Wm. with his book
and a candle, and Mary writing to Sara.
_November 16th._-- ... Wm. is now, at 7 o'clock, reading Spenser. Mary
is writing beside me. The little syke[38] murmurs.[39a] We are quiet and
happy, but poor Peggy Ashburner coughs, as if she would cough her life
away. I am going to write to Coleridge and Sara. Poor C.! I hope he was
in London yesterday....
[Footnote 38: A Cumberland word for a rillet.--ED.]
[Footnote 39a: Probably some of the lines afterwards included in _The
Excursion._--ED.]
_Tuesday, 17th._--A very rainy morning. We walked into Easedale before
dinner. The coppices a beautiful brown. The oaks many, a very fine leafy
shade. We stood a long time to look at the corner birch tree. The wind
was among the light thin twigs, and they yielded to it, this way and
that.
_Wednesday, 18th._--We sate in the house in the morning reading
Spenser. Wm. and Mary walked to Rydale. Very pleasant moonlight. The
lakes beautiful. The church an image of peace. Wm. wrote some lines upon
it.[40] Mary and I walked as far as the Wishing Gate before supper. We
stood there a long time, the whole scene impressive. The mountains
indistinct, the Lake calm and partly ruffled. A sweet sound of water
falling into the quiet Lake.[39] A storm was gathering in Easedale, so
we returned; but the moon came out, and opened to us the church and
village. Helm Crag in shade, the larger mountains dappled like a sky. We
stood long upon the bridge. Wished for Wm....
[Footnote 39: Compare _To a Highland Girl_, 1. 8--