THE EiNGLISH LAKE DISTRICT AS INTERPRETED IN THE POEMS OF WORDSWORTH Printed at The Edinburgh Press, g dr' it. Yomig Street, FOR DAVID DOUGLAS LONDON . . SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT, AND CO., LIM CAMBRIDGE . MAC.MILLAN AND BOWES. GLASGOW . . JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS. THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT AS INTFRPRETED IN THE POEMS OF WORDSWORTH BY WILLIAM KNIGHT PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY AXD POLITICAL ECONOMY IX THP: UNIVERSI'lY OF ST. ANDREWS SECOND EDITION Revised and Enlarged XTNIVERSITY EDINBURGH: DAVID DOUGLAS I 891 \All rights rescyved\ ^6 3w C(.6~H CONTENTS. PAGE PREFACE . i CHAPTER I. COCKERMOUTH, ETC I CHAPTER H. HAWKSHEAD, WINDERMERE, CONISTON, ETC. 7 CHAPTER HI. DOVE COTTAGE 43 CHAPTER IV. GRASMERE, ETC 58 Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER V. HELVELLYN, ULLSWATER, ETC. . • . . 1 25 CHAPTER VI. AiMBLESIDE, LANGDALE, BLEA TARN, ETC. . 1 48 CHAPTER VH. RYDAL MOUNT, LAKE, ETC 1 83 CHAPTER Vni. THIRLEMERE, KESWICK, BORROWDALE, ETC. 214 CHAPTER IX. THE PENRITH DISTRICT, ETC. . . . 236 CHAPTER X. THE DUDDON VALLEY . . . . 243 ^r^o^s'^^5 university) M/^IA) CALIFORNt^L PREFACE. This little book is not a new attempt at criticism. It does not try to estimate the genius, or weigh the merits, of the poetry of Wordsworth. Its aim is much humbler: viz., to interpret the poems, by bringing out the singularly close connection be- tween them, and the district of the English lakes, and by explaining Wordsworth's numerous allusions to the locality. As such, it is only one small stone added to the cairn, that is being raised to the memory of the poet, by the devotion of successive generations. It aims at being a guide to the Poems, as much as to the District ; and to the District, only in so far as it is reflected in, and interpreted by, the Poems. It necessarily takes for granted a certain knowledge of both. The Poems, however, are no longer " caviare to the general." The number of those who can trace to their influence much of what is highest and best within them is multiplying with the spread of culture, and almost in proportion to the complexity of our civilisation ; while the pecuHar charm of the District is increasingly felt by Eng- lishmen. Many of Wordsworth's allusions to Place are obscure ; and the exact localities, as well as indi- vidual objects, are difficult to identify. It is doubt- ful if he cared whether they could be afterwards D ii PREP^ACE. traced out or not ; and in reference to one (see p. 58), when asked by a friend to indicate the particu- lar spot, he refused to locaHse it, saying, " Oh, yes ; that, or any other that will suit.'"' Besides, in some of his most realistic passages, he avowedly weaves together a description of places remote from each other. Numerous instances of this will occur as we proceed. It is true that "poems of places'' are not meant to be photographs ; and were they simph' to repro- duce the features of a particular district, and be an exact transcript of reality, they would be literary photographs and not poems. Poetry cannot, in the nature of things, be a mere register of pheno- mena appealing to the eye or the ear. ^No imagin- ative writer, however, within the range of English literature, is so peculiarly identified with locality as Wordsworth is ; and there is none on the roll of poets, the appreciation of whose writings is more aided by an intimate knowledge of the district in which he livedJ Homer can be understood without a visit to the Troad, or the ^gean ; but the poiuer of Wordsworth cannot be fully known by one who is a stranger to W^estmoreland. The wish to be able definitely to associate his poems with the places which suggested them, and which they in- terpret, is natural to every one who has ever felt the spell of his genius. It is indispensable to all who would know the peculiar charm of a Region which he characterised as " a national property," and of which he, beyond all other men, may be said to have effected the literaiy " conveyance " to posterity. On July 1833, Henry Crabbe Robinson wrote in his diary at Grasmere : " One charm of this district is its infinite variety, as one of the great excel- lences of Wordsworth's poems, and also his prose- writing, is the perfect discrimination between them PREFACE. iii all. The sweet repose of Grasmere is heightened to elegance in Windermere ; the romantic beauties of Ullswater are enhanced to savage wildness in Wastwater ; while Crummock Water is fantastic, and Derwentwater is sublime. But these epithets by no means exclusively apply, and may be often interchanged." These poems are the best, and, in one sense, the only needed, " guide " to the whole of that classic ground. It is ground which they have made classic. They have done more for the north of England than the novels and metrical romances of Sir Walter Scott have done for Scotland : and Scott's are the only works which, in this connec- tion, can be even remotely compared with Words- worth's. There is, however, another and a most interesting scientific work, in reference to Scot- land, with which the poetic interpretation of the English Lakes may be contrasted. It is Professor Geikie's book on The Scenery mid Geology of Scot- land^ in which he endeavours to interpret the pre- sent physical character of the country, by explaining the forces that have been moulding it for centuries, shaping its valleys, and determining the form of its mountains and coast lines. It is by far the best guide to Scottish scenery, because it contains a scientific exposition of the processes by which the country has come to be what it now is. The poetry of Wordsworth fulfils a yet nobler, though quite a kindred, function for Cumberland and Westmore- land ; interpreting the scenery as it now is, by lay- ing hold of its inner meaning, its perennial spirit, and embodying its deep underlying significance, in imaginative forms of unparalleled grace and power. This, apart from everything else, will give perma- nence to his poetry. It will doubtless be asked, Wliat is the use of a viimcte identification of all these places? Is not iv PREFACE. the general fact that Wordsworth described this district of Mountain, Vale, and Mere sufficient, without any further attempt at localisation ? The question is more important, and has wider bearings than may appear upon the surface. On the one hand, it must be admitted, that the discovery of the precise point of every local allusion is not necessary to an understanding or apprecia- tion of the poems ; and in some instances it is unattainable. It must also be admitted that Wordsworth was never contented with simply copying what he saw in Nature. Even in reference to his early poem, The Evening IValk^ written in his eighteenth year, he tells us that the plan of the poem was " not confined to a particular walk or an individual place ; a proof (of which I was uncon- scious at the time) of my unwillingness to submit the poetic spirit to the chains of fact and real cir- cumstance. The country is idealised rather than described in any one of its local aspects."^ In The Excursion he leaps from Langdale to Grasmere, over to Patterdale, back to Grasmere, and again to Haweswater, without warning : and in one of the Duddon Sonnets even he intro- duces a description taken direct from Rydal. Mr. Aubrey de Vere tells us of a conversation he had with Wordsworth, in which he passionately condemned the ultra-realistic poets, who went out into the presence of Nature, with "pencil and note-book, and jotted down whatever struck them most;" adding, " Nature does not permit an inventory to be made of her charms ! He should have left his pencil and note-book at home ; fixed his eye, as he walked, with a reverent attention on all that sur- rounded him, and taken all into a heart that could understand and enjoy. Afterwards he would have 1 Fenwick note to the poem. PREFACE. V discovered that while much of what he had admired was preserved to him, much was also most wisely obliterated. That which remained, the picture surviving in his mind, would have preseiited the ideal and cssoitial truth of the scoie^ and done so^ in large part, by discarding much which, though in itselj striking, was not characteristic. In every scene many of the most brilliant details are but accidental," ^ In these sentences, and especially in the one I have italicised, a thought is expressed which lies very near the centre of the philosophy of creative art. It wall no doubt depend upon the power of the "inward eye," and of the reproducing, idealising mind, whether the poetic result is a travesty of Nature, or the expression of a truth higher than Nature yields. But in keeping with what Wordsworth so felici- tously expressed to Mr. de Vere, it is obvious that a mere inventory of places mentioned by him, how- ever accurate, would afford no real help to the understanding of his poetry. On the other hand, it is equally certain that in many instances the identification ofa particular place casts sudden light upon obscure passages in the poems, and is by far the best commentary that can be given. It is a great thing to be able to compare the actual scene, which suggested the ideal creation, with the latter, which arose out of it, and was both Wordsworth's reading of the text of Nature, and his interpretation of it. In his seventy-third year, looking back on the Descriptive Sketches ^^'ritten at school — and during his first two college vacations — he said that there was not an image in the poem which he had not observed, and that he " recol- lected the time and place when most of them were noticed." In the notes dictated to Miss P>nwick, 1 The Prose Works of Wordsworth^ vol. iii. p. 487. vi PREFACE. he frequently says, " The fact occurred strictly as recorded ; " and, very often, the " fact " involves the accessories of Place. I cannot doubt that, in the case of one so faithful to detail as Words- worth was, the discovery of his minutest allusions will prove an aid to the understanding and ap- preciation of the poems. Nor will the work which this volume attempts to do be deemed superfluous by those who know the district well, and associate it pre-eminently with this poet, if they have ever tried to trace out the allusions in the " Poems on the naming of Places," or even to discover Michacrs sheepfold^ to identify Ghinimcr Crag^ or Thurston-incj'e ; not to speak of the individual "rocks" and "recesses" described in The Excinsiofi, near Blea Tarn, at the head of Little Langdale. Every one knows Kirkstone Pass, Aira Force, Dungeon Ghyll, and Helm Crag ; but where is Emmds Dell^ or "the meeting point of two highways " described so characteristically in the twelfth Book of The Pi-eliide^ and who will determine for us the pool in Rydal Upper Park, immortalised in the poem to M. H. (see p. 71), or identify /(9rz;z;/rt'j- Rock? Much has already been done in the direction indicated, but more remains to reward intelligent and zealous inquiry. The notes and illustrations of the poems, dictated by Wordsworth himself to Miss Fenwick, are the most valuable of all existing memoranda, and are in themselves a singularly precious literary relic. But some of his most characteristic poems require further commentary, which can be obtained only after minute study of the places mentioned. Many of these are them- selves undergoing change, and becoming more difficult to identify every year. Such a memorial, for example, as " the Rock of Names," on the shore of Thirlmere, is threatened with immersion fathoms PREFACE. vii deep below the waters of a Manchester reservoir.^ Others are perishing through the wear and tear of time, the decay of old buildings, the alteration of roads, the cutting down of trees, and the modern- ising or "improving" of the district generally. All this is inevitable. But as the poet wrote for pos- terity, it is a matter for thankfulness that many of the natural objects, over and around which the light of his genius lingers, are out of the reach of " improvements," and are indestructible even by machinery. The attempt to identify localities, which some might prefer to leave undisturbed in the realm of imagination, is undertaken only for those who find their interest in the poems intensified by such realistic detail -those who already feel grateful for the work which Miss Fenwick undertook. If it be objected, that some of the places which we now try to identify, in the earlier poems, were purposely left unrevealed in the Fenwick notes, it may be replied that Death and Time have removed prob- able reasons for reticence, especially in poems alluding to domestic and friendly ties. By dictat- ing the notes for the gratification of a small and private circle, Wordsworth himself sanctioned the principle, \vhich is now carried out only more fully ; and much of his own descriptive detail is more minute and runs farther into matters of secondary interest, than that attempted in this volume. All experience shows, moreover, that posterity takes a great and growing interest in exact topographical illustrations of the works of great authors — witness the labour recently bestowed upon localities as- sociated with Shakespeare, and with Burns, and the success which has attended it. The localities most deeply and permanently iden- ^ See pp. 217-18. viii PREFACE. tified with Wordsworth are the following : — Gras- mere, where he lived during the years of his "poetic prime," and where he is buried ; Lower Easdale, where he spent so many days with his sister, by the side of the brook, and on the terraces at Lancrigg (where The P?rli(dc was written) ; R)'dal Mount, where he spent the latter half of his life, and where he found one of the most perfect retreats in England ; and the old (upper) path between Rydal and Grasmere, under Nab Scar, his favourite walk during his later years, where he composed hundreds of verses. There is scarcely a rock or mountain-summit, a stream or tarn, or even a well, a grove, or a forest-side in all that neighbourhood, which is not imperishably associ- ated with this poet, who at once (as I hope to show) interpreted them, as they had never been interpreted before, and added The gleam, The light, that never was on sea or land, The consecration, and the poet's dream. Most persons are aware that Wordsworth him- self wrote a Guide through the District of the Lakes in the North of England, with a description of the Scenery, etc. It appeared as early as 1810; a fifth edition was published in 1835. Totally unlike ordinary " Guide-books," this unpretending- volume is weighted with reflections on aspects of Nature missed by the ordinary eye, and contains many profound glances into the heart of those familiar things "that border the highway." Of the district generally, Wordsworth remarks : " I do not know any tract of country in which, within so narrow a compass, may be found an equal variety in the influences of light and shadow upon the sublime and beautiful features of land- scape. . . . Though clustered together, every PREFACE. ix valley has its distinct and separate character ; in some instances as if they had been formed in studied contrast to each other, and in others with the differences and resemblances of a sisterly rivalship" (sect. i). He goes on to point out, in a singularly striking and original manner, the peculiar features which make this region unique, not only in England but in Europe, alluding in succession to the mountains, both in their form and colouring, to the vales, the lakes, the islands, the tarns, tlie rivers, and the woods. As there is no finer delineation of the district, except in his own poetry, I may quote a few sentences from this Guide. Referring to the lake, he says : " Its form is most perfect when it least resembles that of a river, ... a body of still water under the influence of no current ; reflecting, therefore, the clouds, the light, and all the imagery of the sky and surrounding hills ; expressing, also, and making visible, the changes of the atmosphere and motions of the lightest breeze, and subject to agitation only from the winds. '^ Alluding to the tarns, round the margin of which large boulders lie scattered — " some defying conjecture as to the means by which they came hither, and others obviously fallen from on high, the contribution of ages" (and this, it must be remembered, was written before the rise of modern geology, and while the glacial theory was unknown) — he adds, characteristically, "A not unpleasing sadness is induced by this perplexity, and these images of decay." Speaking of the climate of the district, and of the skiey influences generally, he remarks : "The rain comes down here heartily., and is fre- quently succeeded by clear, bright weather, when every brook is \ocal, and every torrent sonorous, brooks and torrents which are never muddy, except after a drought. Days of unsettled weather, with ^eSE UDfil^ GFTHE xjkiversitt) V ^ OF J X PREFACE. partial showers, are frequent ; but the showers, darkening or brightening as they fly from hill to hill, are not less grateful to the eye than finely interwoven passages of gay and sad music are touching to the ear. Vapours exhaling from the lakes and meadows after sunrise in a hot season, or in moist weather brooding upon the heights, or descending towards the valleys with inaudible motion, give a visionary character to everything around them, and are in themselves so beautiful as to dispose us to enter into the feelings of those simple nations by whom they are taken for the Guardian Deities of the mountains ; or to sym- pathise with others who have fancied these delicate apparitions to be the spirits of their departed ancestors. Akin to these are fleecy clouds, resting upon the hill tops. Such clouds, cleaving to their stations, or lifting up suddenly their glittering heads from behind rocky barriers, or hurrying out of sight wqth speed of the sharpest edge, will often tempt an inhabitant to congratulate himself on belonging to a country of mists, and clouds, and storms, and make him think of the blank sky of Egypt, and the cerulean vacancy of Italy, as an unanimated and even a sad spectacle." Finally, he says that as " in human life there are moments worth ages, so in the climate of Eng- land there are, for the lover of Nature, days which are worth whole months, I might even say years. . .. It is in autumn that days of such affecting mfluence most frequently intervene ; the atmos- phere seems refined, and the sky rendered more crystalline, as the vivifying heat of the year abates ; the lights and shadows are more delicate ; the colouring is richer, and more finely harmonised ; and in this season of stillness, the ear being unoccupied, or only gently excited, the sense of vision becomes more susceptible of its PREFACE. xi appropriate enjoyments. A resident in a country like this which we are treating' of, will agree with me that the presence of a lake is indispensable to exhibit in perfection the beauty of one of these days ; and he must have experienced, while looking on the unruffled waters, that the imagination^ by their aid^ is car?-ied into 7'ecesses of feeli?ig other- wise iinpetictrablc. The reason of this is that the heavens are not only brought down into the bosom of the earth, but that the earth is necessarily looked at, and thought of, through the medium of a purer element." ^ Perhaps Wordsworth's finest description (in prose) of the outward features of any single object in Nature is that contained in a letter to Coler- idge,- giving an account of his visit to the water- fall near Hardrane in Yorkshire, on his way to Grasmere, to settle down there in 1799. In that chapter of his Guide ^ in which he speaks of the best time for visiting the district, he mentions successively certain features of Nature — which afford a good illustration of the way in which he passed from the external features of a scene, or those of which the senses takes cognisance, to its underlying spirit. He first refers to "the tender green of the after-grass upon the meadows, inter- spersed with islands of gray or mossy rock." He then alludes to the notes of birds, which, " when listened to, by the side of broad, still waters, or heard in unison with the murmuring of mountain brooks, have the compass of their powers enlarged accordingly ; " next, of the " imaginative influence of the voice of the cuckoo, when that ^■oice has taken possession of a deep mountain valley." Again he writes : " He is the most fortunate, who chances to ^ Guide, section i. - Memoirs, vol. 1. p. 150, etc. xii PREFACE. be involved in vapours which open and let in an extent of country partially, or, dispersing suddenly, reveal the whole region from centre to circum- ference." 1 In order to show what Wordsworth saw in Nature, and how he saw it, I must, of necessity, quote very largely from the Poems ; and, in doing so, I shall depart from the poet's own arrangement of them, and follow an order partly chronological and partly topographical. It seems natural to begin with Cockermouth, his birthplace, and to pass thence to Hawkshead, where his wonderful " school-time " was passed, and where his spirit received the most powerful influences of Nature; going on to Grasmere, where he settled at the end of last century ; and with Grasmere as our centre, to radiate in different directions, to Langdale, Pat- terdale, and Keswick. The poems in this volume are grouped together according to the districts to which they refer, and which they describe. This leads of necessity to their partial dismemberment. But only those which allude to localities in the Lake country are quoted, with the relevant portions of the I. F. MS., and extracts from the Journal of Dorothy Words- worth. They cast a flood of light upon the whole district, and on the poet's work in connection with it ; and any value which this book may have will be in proportion to the ease with which the com- mentary is forgotten in the realisation of the poems themselves. It remains for me to express my obligations in past years in the sometimes difficult task of iden- tifying obscure places, and tracing out obscure allusions, to the late Dr. Cradock, Principal of Brasenose College, Oxford — who knew more of the ^ Guide, section 4. PREFACE. xiii district, in connection with Wordsworth, than any one I ever met with — to the late Lady Richardson of Lancrig'g; to the Reverend H. D. Rawnsley, of Crosthwaite Vicarage, Keswick, who is probabl)' the most learned of all ^iien now alive in the topography of the Wordsworth country ; also, through the medium of Dr. Cradock, to the Cookson family — neighbours and friends of the poet during a large portion of his life. The extent of my indebtedness to Dr. Cradock is apparent throughout the \olume. I often wished that he could have been himself induced to undertake the work. William Knight. SL Andreivs, Ocfoher 1S78. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. Thirteen years have elapsed since the first edition of this little book was published. In the present issue the lecture on Wordsworth, with which the former one concluded, is omitted ; and in its place are printed many additional memor- anda of the district by Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy. I have not thought it necessary to make reference to any special edition of the poet's works in quoting from them. The text will be found to be accurate, but it is unnecessary to state from what particular edition each extract is taken. In one or two instances, the localisations in the former edition have been slightly altered by a subsequent study of the places described. In addition to the new material supplied by the Grasmere Journals of the poet's sister, there are several localities in the Lake Country, not referred to in the previous volume, which are em- braced within this one, — especially the Penrith district, and the Duddon Vahey. I have especially to thank Mr, Gordon Wordsworth, for permission to give extracts from the Journal of his great aunt, and Mr. Herbert Rix, assistant-secretary of the Royal Society, for permission to use his notes on the Duddon. It was my original intention to include, along with what is now published (but in a second volume), the localisation of e^■ery reference in PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. xv Wordsworth's poems to Yorkshire, Somersetshire, Dorsetshire, Wales, the Isle of Man, Scotland, Switzerland, and Italy — in short, all the places memorialised by him. The materials for such a volume are collected, and indeed lie ready to hand in the notes I have already given in the library edition of the Poems (1883- 1889), and other data brought together in previous years. It has been thought desirable, however, to limit the present volume — like its predecessor — to the District of the English Lakes alone. The portrait prefixed to this volume has a special interest. Mr. Leonard C. Wyon, after reading a paper on thirty-eight portraits of the poet, which was read to the Wordsworth Society, and published in its Tra7tsactions^ wrote to me that there was a thirty- ninth, taken by himself at Rydal, in 1847, in Words- worth's seventy-seventh year, and that he would gladly show it to me. On calling next day, I found it to be one of the best — perhaps the most char- acteristic — of all the portraits. It is a small crayon profile, and although there is a noticeable feeble- ness in the lower part of the face, due as much to age as to anything else, the expression is one of remarkable strength and tenderness combined. Mr, Wyon has most generously consented to its reproduction in this volume. The sketch on the outside cover of the book is from a drawing of Dove cottage, as it ^vas in 1800, given to me by Miss Richardson of Heughfolds, Grasmere. Since the first edition was published, there have been several books added to our Wordsworth Literature : The Transactmns of " The Words- worth Society;" a chronological edition of the poet's IVorks, with notes descriptive and critical, in eight volumes ; and, as its sequel, the Lz/e of Wordsworth^ in three \olumes. The Tra?tsacfw?is were issued privately to members of the Society. xvi PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. The Works and Life were published by Mr. William Paterson, 1882-86. In 1879, Messrs. Macmillan issued a little book called Poems of Wordsworth^ chosen aitd edited by Matthew Arnold, with an admirable preface ; and in 1888, a volume of Selec- tions was published by Messrs. K. Paul, Trench, & Co., to which Mr. Browning, and many other members of the Wordsworth Society, contributed. For more precise information as to the poems, and what suggested them ; to the localities memorialised, and some points in the allusions themselves ; as well as to scattered folk-lore, anti- quarian details, and historical facts connected with them, I must refer to the notes in the Chrono- logical (Library) Edition of the poet's Works. Perhaps the most interesting event, in connection with Wordsworth's influence on the present genera- tion, is the recent purchase — for the world and for posterity — of Dove Cottage, his residence froin December 1799 to May 1808 (see page 54). William Knight. Edgecliffe, St. Andrews, April 1 89 1. CHAPTER 1. COCKERMOUTH, ETC. It is to his autobiographical poem, that one naturally turns to find out how Wordsworth felt towards Cockermouth, the place of his birth ; and how he interpreted the surrounding district in which his childhood was spent. There are many allusions in The Prelude to the old house in which he was born, its garden, and vne river which passed it. In the first book, he says, alluding to the Derwent, that One, the fairest of all rivers, loved To blend his murmurs with my nurse's song. And from his alder shades and rocky falls. And from his fords and shallows, sent a voice That flowed along my dreams. For this, didst thou, O Derwent I winding aniong grassy holms Where I was looking on, a babe in arms. Make ceaseless music that composed my thoughts To more than infant softness, giving me Amid the fretful dwellings of mankind A foretaste, a dim earnest, of the calm That Nature breathes among the hills and groves ? When he had left the mountains and received On his smooth breast the shadow of those towers That yet survive, a shattered monument Of feudal sway, the bright blue river passed ^ c 2 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Along the margin of our terrace walk ; A tempting playmate whom we dearly loved. Oh, many a time have I, a five years' child, In a small mill-race severed from his stream, Made one long bathing of a summer's day; Basked in the sun, and plunged and basked again Alternate, all a summer's day, or scoured The sandy fields, leaping through flowery groves Of yellow ragwort ; or when rock and hill. The woods, and distant Skiddaw's lofty height. Were bronzed with deepest radiance, stood alone Beneath the sky, as if I had been born On Indian plains, and from my mother's hut Had run abroad in wantonness, to sport A naked savage, in the thunder shower.^ The "mill-race" may easily be guessed, but is too vaguely described to be known with accuracy ; and the " sandy fields " must be those close to the " race " itself. The " towers " are, of course, those of Cockermouth Castle. The " terrace walk " is at the foot of the garden attached to the old mansion in the town in which he was born, and in which his father, who was law-agent of the Lonsdale family, resided. Two of the sonnets composed in 1833 refer to his birthplace ; the first, suggested /;i sight of the Toivn of Cockc7'moiith (ivhej'd the A iithor was bom, and his Father's reviains are laid); the second, A71 Address from the Spirit of Cocke7^moiith Castle. Neither of them need be quoted ; but another in the same series, and of the same date, addressed To the River Derwe?it, is as follows : — Among the mountains were we nursed, loved Stream ! Thou near the eagle's nest — within brief sail, ^ The Prelude, book i. p. 41. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 3 I, of his bold wing floating on the gale, Where thy deep voice could lull me ! Faint the beam Of human life when first allowed to gleam On mortal notice. — Glory of the vale, Such thy meek outset, with a crown, though frail. Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam Of thy soft breath I — Less vivid wreath entwined Nemasan victor's brow; less bright was worn, Meed of some Roman chief — in triumph borne With captives chained ; and shedding from his car The sunset splendours of a finished war Upon the proud enslavers of mankind ! It was in reference to this home of his childhood that, in 1 801, he wrote the poem he called The Sparrow'' s Nest ; the "sister Emmeline" referred to in it being his only sister, Dorothy. In a note written in 1 80 1, he says : "At the end of the garden of my father's house at Cockermouth was a high terrace, that commanded a fine view of the river Derwent and Cockermouth Castle. This was our favourite playground. The terrace wall, a low one, Avas covered with closely-clipt privet and roses, which gave an almost impervious shelter to birds who built their nests there. The following stanzas allude to one of those nests. Behold, within the leafy shade. These bright blue eggs together laid I On me the chance-discovered sight Gleamed like a vision of delight. I started — seeming to espy The home and sheltered bed. The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by My Father's house, in wet or dry My sister Emmeline and I Together visited. 4 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT She looked at it, and seemed to fear it : Dreading, tho' wishing to be near it : Such heart was in her, being then A httle Prattler among men. The Blessing of my later years Was with me when a boy : She gave me eyes, she gave me ears ; And humble cares, and delicate fears : A heart, the fountain of sweet tears ; And love, and thought, and joy. Though written in the Dove Cottage orchard, Grasmere, the poem. To a Butterfly^ refers to the days of Words worth^s childhood at Cockermouth, before 1778. Stay near me : do not take thy flight I A little longer stay in sight ! Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me : do not yet depart. Dead times revive in thee : Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art ! A solemn image to my heart, My father's family ! Oh I pleasant, pleasant were the days. The time, when, in our childish plays. My sister Emmeline and I Together chased the butterfly I A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey: with leaps and springs I followed on from brake to bush ; But she, God love her ! feared to brush The dust from off its wings. Of this poem Dorothy Wordsworth wrote, March 14, 1802 : "While we were at breakfast, W. wrote AS INTERPRETED IJV WORDSWORTH. 5 the poem, To a Butterfly, The thought came upon him as we were talking about the pleasure we both always felt at the sight of a butterfly. I told him that I used to chase them a little, but that I was afraid of brushing the dust off their wings, and did not catch them." In the thirteenth book of The Prelude there is an allusion to an experience of childhood, which must refer to Cockermouth, and which I do not think any one has hitherto traced out : — Who doth not love to follow with his eye The windings of a public way ? the sight. Familiar object as it is, hath wrought On my imagination since the morn Of childhood, when a disappearing line One daily present to my eyes, that crossed The naked summit of a far-off hill Beyond the limits that my feet had trod. Was like an invitation into space Boundless, or guide into eternity.^ For a hint in reference to this road, I have been indebted to Dr. Henry Dodgson of Cockermouth. Referring" to a suggestion that it might be the road leading to Bridekirk, Dr. Dodgson writes (July 1878) : "I scarcely think that the road answers to the description. The hill over which it goes is not naked, but well wooded, and has probably been so for many years. Besides, it is not visible from Wordsworth's house, nor from the garden behind it. This garden extends from the house to the river Derwent, from which it is separated by a wall, with a raised terraced walk on the inner side, and nearly on a level with the top. I understand that this terrace was in existence in the poet's ^ The Prelude, book xiii. p. 341. 6 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. time. ... Its direction is nearly due east and west ; and looking eastwards from it, there is a hill which bounds the view in that direction, and which fully corresponds to the description in The Prelude. It is from one and a half to two miles distant, is of considerable height : is bare and destitute of trees : and has a road directly over its summit, as seen from the terrace in Wordsworth's garden. The road is now used only as a footpath ; but fifty or sixty years ago it was the highroad to Isel, a hamlet on the Derwent, about three and a half miles from Cockermouth, in the direction of Bassenthwaite Lake. The hill is locally called ' The Hay;' but on the Ordnance map it is marked 'Watch Hill.'" There can be no doubt, I think, as to the accuracy of this suggestion. No other hill-road is visible from the house or garden at Cockermouth. The view from the front of the old mansion is limited by houses, doubtless more so now than in last century; but there is no hill towards the Lorton Fells on the south or south-east with a road over it, visible from any part of the town. Besides, this must have been a very early experience of Wordsworth's childhood (he had not as yet walked two miles), and the road was one " daily present to his eyes." It must, therefore, have been seen either from the house or the garden. It is almost certain that he is referring to that path over the Hay, or Watch Hill, which he and his "sister Emmeline" could see daily, from the terrace at the foot of their garden. CHAPTER II. HAWKSHEAD, WINDERMERE, CONISTON, ETC. Passing to Hawkshead, \\here Wordsworth was sent to school in his ninth year, we find much more than at Cockermouth that speaks to us of the poet, and is immortalised by his description or allusion. The old market town of Hawkshead, where he spent more than eight years (1778 to 1786), is one of the quaintest in the Lake District. The irregular outline of the narrow winding streets ; the pave- ment of single slates covering " the famous brook," which gives the name of Flag Street to one of them ; the low archways ; the picturesque frontages of the houses, with their many-paned windows and primitive chimneys ; the open court in the centre of the town ; the Church upon the hill, with its winding approach ; and the ancient Grammar- School below it, for three centuries a famed academy ; — all these things give a visitor to Hawkshead a succession of quaint surprises. It is in The Prelude that Wordsworth has written most about his school life and summer vacations at Hawkshead, and of that wonderful spring-time which he there enjoyed. The snow-white church upon the hill Sits like a throned lady, sending out A gracious look all over her domain.^ ^ The Prelude, book iv. p. 86. 8 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT This old Norman Church, built in i i6o — the same year as that in which Furness Abbey was erected — is no longer snow-white, a " restoration " having taken place within recent years, on architectural principles ! The plaster is stripped from the outside of the Church, which is now of a dull stone colour. Archbishop Sandys private chapel is, perhaps, its most interesting feature to the visitor. "Apart from poetic sentiment," says Dr. Cradock, " it may be doubted whether the pale colour still preserved at Grasmere and other churches in the district does not better harmonise with the scenery and atmos- phere of the Lake country." The Church, however, is still a conspicuous object as you approach Hawkshead by the Ambleside Road or from Sawrey. It is the latter approach that Wordsworth describes, in his account of his return to Hawkshead from Cambridge during a summer vacation. The school in which the poet was taught (founded by Archbishop Sandys in 1585) is still very much as it was in Wordsworth's time. The mam schoolroom is on the ground floor. One small chamber on the first floor was used in his day by the head master for teaching a few advanced pupils. In another room is a library, formed in part by the donations of the scholars ; it being the custom for each pupil to present a volume on leaving school, or to send one afterwards. On the wall of this room is a tablet recording the names of several masters ; and there, in an old oak chest, is kept the original charter of the school. In the oak benches downstairs the names and initials of some of the boys are deeply cut ; and amongst them " W. Wordsworth " may be seen. Within recent years some ornamental scrolls have been put up on the walls of the schoolroom. The idea was Mr. Rawnsley's, and they were designed by Mrs. Rawnsley. The suggestion of the particular AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 9 mottoes came from several sources. There are four of them, and they are as follows : — " Small service is true service while it lasts." "The child is father to the man, And I could wish my days to iDe Bound each to each by natural piety." " Books, we know. Are a substantial world, both pure and good, Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow." " We live by admiration, hope, and love." Towards the close of last century, when Words- worth and his three brothers were educated at this school, it was one of the best educational institutions in the north of England. The pupils boarded in the houses of the village dames. Ye lowly cottages, wherein we dwelt, A ministration of your own was yours ; Can I forget you, being as you were So beautiful among the pleasant fields In which ye stood ? or can I here forget The plain and seemly countenance with which Ye dealt out your plain comforts ? Yet had ye Delights and exultations of your own.^ Wordsworth lived with one Anne Tyson, for whose memory he cherished the warmest regard. Her cottage, the young poet's residence for nine event- ful years, remains unaltered externally; and little, if at all, changed in the interior. It is well known, and easily found. It now belongs to Mr. Thomas Atkinson, Hawkshead Hill. It is reached through a picturesque archway, nearly opposite the principal ^ The Prelude, book i. p. 2^. lO THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT village inn (the Lion), and stands on the right of a small open yard which you enter through this arch- way ; while to the left a lane leads westwards to the open country. It is a humble dwelling of two stories; the floor of the basement flat, paved with the blue flags of Coniston slate, is not likely to have been changed since Wordsworth's time. On the upper flat there are two bedrooms to the front, with oaken flooring, one of which must have been occupied by Wordsworth, as he could not otherwise have written of That lowly bed whence I had heard the wind Roar, and the rain beat hard ; where I so oft Had lain awake on summer nights to watch The moon in splendour couched among the leaves Of a tall ash, that near our cottage stood ; Had watched her with fixed eyes while to and fro In the dark summit of the waving tree She rocked with every impulse of the breeze.^ The ash-tree is gone, but there is no doubt as to the place where it grew. Mr. Watson, whose father owned and inhabited the house immediately opposite Mrs. Tyson's cottage in Wordsworth's time, and who was himself born in it, tells me that the ash-tree grew on the proper right front of the cottage, where an outhouse is now built. If this be so, Wordsworth's room must have been that on the proper left, with the smaller of the two windows. The cottage faces nearly south-west. Referring to the " old dame so kind and motherly," and her humble dwelling, with its garden, etc., Wordsworth writes : — The thoughts of gratitude shall fall like dew Upon thy grave, good creature 1 While my heart 1 The Prelude, book iv. p. 88. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. II Can beat never will I forget thy name. Heaven's blessing- be upon thee where thou liest After thy innocent and busy stir In narrow cares, thy little daily growth Of calm enjoyments, after eighty years, And more than eighty, of untroubled life,^ Childless, yet by the strangers to thy blood Honoured with little less than filial love. What joy was mine to see thee once again. Thee and thy dwelling, and a crowd of things About its narrow precincts all beloved, And many of them seeming yet my o^^-n ! Why should I speak of what a thousand hearts Have felt, and every man alive can guess? The rooms, the court, the garden were not left Long unsaluted, nor the sunny seat Round the stone table under the dark pine, Friendly to studious or to festive hours ; Nor that unruly child of mountain birth. The famous brook, who, soon as he was boxed Within our garden, found himself at once. As if by trick insidious and unkind, Stripped of his voice and left to dimple down (Without an effort and without a will) A channel paved by man's officious care.^ There can be little doubt as to the identity of " the famous brook " within our garden. " Persons have visited the cottage," says Dr. Cradock, "with- out discovering it ; and yet it is not forty yards distant, and is still exactly as described. On the opposite side of the lane already referred to, a few steps above the cottage, is a narrow passage through ^ "Anne Tyson of Colthouse, widow, died May 25th, 1796; buried 28th, in churchyard; aged 83," is the entry in the Ilawkshead parish register. " T/ie Prelude, book iv. p. 87, T2 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT some new stone buildings. On emerging from this you meet a small garden, the farther side of which is bounded by the brook, confined on both sides by large flags, and also covered by flags of the same Coniston formation, through the interstices of which you may see and hear the stream running freely.^ The upper flags are now used as a footpath, and lead by another passage back into the village. No doubt the garden has been reduced in size, by the use of that part of it fronting the lane for building purposes. The stream, before it enters the area of Ijuildings and gardens, is open by the lane side, and seemingly comes from the hills to the westwards. The large flags are extremely hard and durable, and it is probable that the very flags which paved the channel in Wordsworth's time may be still doing the same duty." The only difficulty in this identification of the garden is that the adjoining house, to which it would naturally be attached, was not Dame Tyson's but Mr. Watson's; and, unless it was let to Mrs. Tyson, or unless Wordsworth was inaccurate in this detail, he may possibly be describing another part of the brook farther up the stream. A good way above the village, at a place called Walker Ground, the same brook is certainly " boxed within a garden ; " and there it is Hterally " stript of its voice" for a considerable distance. The present house at Walker Ground is comparatively recent ; but in two adjoining cottages boys attending the Grammar-School were boarded in the beginning of the century, just as at Mrs. Tyson's. Wordsworth may be describing a garden at Walker Ground ; but, on the whole, I think it was the garden in the village. In reference to the cottage he lived in, he says there was " a crowd of things about its ^ Therefore, not quite " stripped of its voice," AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 3 narrow precincts all beloved." The garden was, I think, close at hand. There is neither trace nor tradition, however, of the "dark pine" with the "stone table" under it. They have disappeared as completely as the rude mass Of native rock left midway in the square Of our small market village/ which was the goal, Or centre of our sports.^ In the fifth book of The Prelude Wordsworth tells us — Well do I call to mind the very week When I was first entrusted to the care Of that sweet Valley ; when its paths, its streams, And brooks were like a dream of novelty To my half-infant thoughts.-^ It is thus that he describes the "fair seed-time" of his soul : — Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up Fostered alike by beauty and by fear : Much favoured in my birthplace, and no less In that beloved Vale to which ere long We were transplanted — there were we let loose For sports of wider range. Ere I had told Ten birthdays, when among the mountain slopes Frost, and the breath of frosty wind, had snapped The last autumnal crocus, 'twas my joy With store of springes o'er my shoulder hung ^ The Prelude^ book ii. p. 34, " Ibid. " Ibid, book v. p. 124. 14 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT To range the open heights where woodcocks run Along the smooth green turf. Through half the night, Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied That anxious visitation ; moon and stars Were shining o'er my head. I was alone. And seemed to be a trouble to the peace That dwelt among them. Sometimes it befel In these night wanderings, that a strong desire O'erpowered my better reason, and the iDird Which was the captive of another's toil Became my prey ; and when the deed was done I heard among the solitary hills Low breathings coming after me, and sounds Of undistinguishable motion, steps Almost as silent as the turf they trod. Nor less when spring had warmed the cultured Vale, Moved we as plunderers where the mother-bird Had in high places built her lodge ; though mean Our object and inglorious, yet the end Was not ignoble. Oh ! when I have hung Above the raven's nest, by knots of grass And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock But ill sustained, and almost (so it seemed) Suspended by the blast that blew amain, Shouldering the naked crag, oh, at that time While on the perilous ridge I hung alone, With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind Blow through my ear ! the sky seemed not a sky Of earth — and with what motion moved the clouds I^ The concluding lines of this passage, in which he describes the effect of Nature over him, when, with his school companions, he harried the ravens' nests, might be thought to refer to the same vale — that of ^ The Prelude, book ii. p. 15. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 5 Esthwaite — to which the earHer part of the extract alkides. But the scene of these exploits cannot have been that " cuUured vale." No ravens build there, or could build in Wordsworth's time ; and there are no " naked crags " with " half-inch fissures in the slippery rock " in Esthwaite. The locality must have been the Holme Fells, above Yewdale, to the north of Coniston, and only a few miles from Hawkshead, where a Raven^s Cras^ now divides Tiberthwaite from Yewdale. In confirmation of this, in his Epistle to Sir George Beaiuiwnt^ Words- worth speaks of Yewdale as a plain spread Under a rock, too steep for man to tread, Where, sheltered from the north, and black north- west, Aloft the raven hangs a visible nest, Fearlessof all assaults that would herbrood molest. It was in these days, and in holiday rambles to more distant valleys and mountain ranges (quite as much as at a later stage when he visited the Wye), that the tall rock. The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood. Their colour and their forms, were then to him An appetite : a feeling, and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye. Almost the precise spot of another of his youth- ful experiences at Hawkhead, recorded in The Prelude^ can easily be identified. He tells us how one summer evening he found A little boat tied to a willow tree Within a rocky cove, its usual home. 1 6 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Straight I unloosed her chain, and stepping in Pushed from the shore. It was an act of stealth And troubled pleasure, nor without the voice Of mountain-echoes did my boat move on ; Leaving behind her still, on either side. Small circles glittering idly in the moon, Until they melted all into one track Of sparkling light. But now, like one who rows, Proud of his skill, to reach a chosen point With an unswerving line, I fixed my view Upon the summit of a craggy ridge, The horizon's utmost boundary ; far above Was nothing but the stars and the grey sky. She was an elfin pinnace ; lustily I dipped my oars into the silent lake, And, as I rose upon the stroke, my boat W^ent heaving through the water like a swan ; When, from behind that craggy steep till then The horizon's bound, a huge peak, black and huge, As if with voluntary power instinct Upreared its head. I struck and struck again, And growing still in stature the grim shape Towered up between me and the stars, and still. For so it seemed, with purpose of its own And measured motion like a living thing, Strode after me. With trembling oars I turned, And through the silent water stole my way Back to the covert of the willow tree ; There in her mooring-place I left my bark, — And through the meadows homeward went, in grave And serious mood ; but after I had seen That spectacle, for many days, my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being ; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes Remained, no pleasant images of trees, Of sea or sky, no colours of green fields ; AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 7 But huge and mighty forms, that do not Hve Like Hving men, moved slowly through the mind By day, and were a trouble to my dreams. ^ Any one rowing across Esthwaite Lake, or walk- ing along the eastern shore, can see the very spot to which this refers. The "craggy steep, till then the horizon's bound," is the ridge of Ironkeld ; while the " huge peak, black and huge, as if with voluntary power instinct" (which every one who understands Wordsworth recognises as he would a living thing), is the summit of Wetherlam. A still more characteristic passage from The Prelude may be here given in full, as it describes, in immortal verse, the influence of Nature over the poet, subduing, moulding, and educating him — in these early days. It is his own record of the first virgin passion of the soul Communing with this glorious universe. It has been often quoted, and is well known ; but it is unrivalled in the picture it gives of the idealism that springs out of real fellowship with Nature. The " silent bays " into which he retired from the tumultuous throng of his school companions to " cut across the reflex of a star " w^hile skating on Esthwaite water may be easily guessed. There are comparatively few of them in this lake. Wisdom and Spirit of the universe ! Thou Soul that art the eternity of thought. That givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or star light thus from my first dawn ^ The Prehide, book \.v^i'^yj-'? Ur.?A^- U f ''•■ OF THE '■-'' \ (XJNIVERSITi^ Of l8 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul ; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects, with enduring things — With life and nature — purifying thus The elements of feeling and of thought, And sanctifying, by such discipline, Both pain and fear, until we recognise A grandeur in the beatings of the heart. Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me With stinted kindness. In November days. When vapours rolling down the valley made A lonely scene more lonesome, among woods, At noon and ^mid the calm of summer nights. When, by the margin of the trembling lake. Beneath the gloomy hills homeward I went In solitude, such intercourse was mine ; Mine was it in the fields both day and night. And by the w^aters, all the summer long. And in the frosty season, when the sun Was set, and visible for many a mile The cottage windows blazed through twilight gloom, I heeded not their summons : happy time It was indeed for all of us — for me It was a time of rapture ! Clear and loud The village clock tolled six, — I wheeled about. Proud and exulting like an untired horse That cares not for his home. All shod with steel, We hissed along the polished ice in games Confederate, imitative of the chase And woodland pleasures, — the resounding horn. The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare. So through the darkness and the cold we flew. And not a voice was idle ; with the din Smitten, the precipices rang aloud ; The leafless trees and every icy crag Tinkled like iron ; while far distant hills AS INTERPRETED EY WORDSWORTH. 1 9 Into the tumult sent an alien sound Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west The orange sky of evening died away. Not seldom from the uproar I retired Into a silent bay, or sportively Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng, To cut across the reflex of a star That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes. When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once Have I, reclining back upon my heels, Stopped short ; yet still the solitary cliffs Wheeled by me — even as if the earth had rolled With visible motion her diurnal round ! Behind me did they stretch in solemn train. Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep.^ Probably this skating scene on Esthwaite is the one most vividly associated, by the majority of the readers of The P7'ehide^ with the youth of the poet; but who, except Wordsworth, would have noticed "the alien sound of melancholy" sent into the tumult from " far distant hills ? " Who but he w^ould have observed (as in the former part of the above extract), that " vapours rolling down a valley " made " a lonely scene more lonesome ? " Every one Avho has been taught by him must feel a special interest in the surroundings of the Hawkshead district, and the vale of Esthwaite, w^here he tells us that, in his tenth year, he 1 The Prehide, book i. p. 19. 20 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Held unconscious intercourse with beauty Old as creation, and where he saw Gleams, like the flashings of a shield, the earth And common face of Nature spake to him Rememberable things. In reference to these days, and haunts, he thus addresses the Soul of Nature : — ■ O Soul of Nature ! excellent and fair ! That didst rejoice with me, with whom I, too. Rejoiced through early youth, before the winds And roaring waters, and in lights and shades That marched and countermarched about the hills In glorious apparition, Powers on whom I daily waited, now all eye and now All ear ; but never long without the heart Employed, and man's unfolding intellect : ^ To many it is a better education to endeavour to retrace The simple ways in which his childhood walked, Those chiefly that first led him to the love Of rivers, woods, and fields, ^ and to find out the force of the following lines as they bear upon the poet's childhood, than to recall and meditate upon similar experiences of their own : — These recollected hours that have the charm Of visionary things, these lovely forms ' The Prelude^ book xii. p. 32 1. - Ibid, book ii. p. ■},'^, AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 21 And sweet sensations that throw back our Hfe, And ahiiost make remotest infancy A visible scene, on which the sun is shining.^ The islands in Windermere, which were visited on summer half-holidays, are easily identified. The two last referred to in the following extract are certainly the Lily of the Valley Island and Lady Holme respectively. The first may have been House Holme or Thomson's Holme. It is less likely to have been Belle Isle, from the greater size of the latter, and from its hardly being a "sister isle " to the one where the lily of the valley still grows "beneath the oaks' umbrageous covert." The " ruins of the shrine " have now disappeared as completely from Lady Holme in Windermere as from St. Herbert's Island in Derwentwater. When summer came, Our pastime was, on bright half-holidays, To sweep along the plain of Windermere With rival oars ; and the selected bourne Was now an Island musical with birds That sang and ceased not; now a Sister Isle Beneath the oaks' umbrageous covert, sown With lilies of the valley like a field ; And now a third small Island, where survived In solitude the ruins of a shrine Once to Our Lady dedicate, and served Daily with chaunted rites. ^ The description of the inn, Midway on long Winander's eastern shore. Within the crescent of a pleasant bay,^ ^ The Prelude, book i. p. 29. - Ibid, book ii. p. 35. ^ Ibid, book ii. p. 39. 22 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT calls for no special remark ; but one of the incidents in the return home of the youthful party, with its allusion to Robert Greenwood, the " minstrel of the troop," afterwards Senior Fellow of Trinity, Cambridge, is too characteristic to be passed over. But, ere nightfall, When in our pinnace we returned at leisure Over the shadowy lake, and to the beach Of some small island steered'our course with one, The Minstrel of the Troop, and left him there. And rowed off gently, while he blew his flute Alone upon the rock — oh, then, the calm And dead still water lay upon my mind Even with a weight of pleasure, and the sky. Never before so beautiful, sank down Into my heart, and held me like a dream ! Thus were my sympathies enlarged, and thus Daily the common range of visible things Grew dear to me : already I began To love the sun ; a boy I loved the sun. Not as I since have loved him, as a pledge And surety of our earthly life, a light Which we behold and feel we are alive ; Nor for his bounty to so many worlds — But for this cause, that I had seen him lay His beauty on the morning hills, had seen The western mountain touch his setting orb, In many a thoughtless hour, when, from excess Of happiness, my blood appeared to flow For its own pleasure, and I breathed with joy.^ For his teacher in the Hawkshead school, the Reverend William Taylor, Wordsworth cherished the warmest affection. It was the farewell which this master took of his pupils on his deathbed (of ^ T/ie Pre/tide, p. 40. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 23 whom the poet was one) that suggested the lines addressed to the scholars of Hawkshead, which are inseparably associated with that village school. The following lines occur in the poem. Here did he sit confined for hours ; But he could see the woods and plains, Could hear the wind and mark the showers Come streaming down the streaming panes. Now stretched beneath his grass-green mound He rests a prisoner of the ground. He loved the breathing air, He loved the sun, but if it rise Or set, to him where now he lies, Brings not a moment's care. The three poems, respectively entitled, Matthew^ The Two Ap7il Mo7'7tings^ and The Foimtain^ are full of allusions to Hawkshead, and his teachers ; though Wordsworth tells us that the " schoolmaster was made up of several, like the wanderer in The Exctirsio?t" (I. F. MS.) I have found no tradition of a " Leonard's Rock." There are many streams in the neighbourhood to which the following stanza may refer — which is finer than the refrain of Tennyson's Brook — Men may come, and men may go. But I go on for ever. The particular stream has not been identified. It is most likely, however, that it is the "famous brook" of The Prelude at a point higher up amongst the fells. No check, no stay, this streamlet fears ; How merrily it goes ! 'Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows. 24 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT The following- sonnet, composed in 1806, is a reminiscence of the Vale of Hawkshead, and its brooks : — " Beloved Vale I " I said, " When I shall con Those many records of my childish years, Remembrance of myself and of my peers Will press me down : to think of what is gone Will be an awful thought, if life have one." But, when into the Vale I came, no fears Distressed me ; from mine eyes escaped no tears ; Deep thought, or dread remembrance, had I none. By doubts and thousand petty fancies crost I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall ; So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small I A Juggler's balls old Time about him tossed; I looked, I stared, I smiled, I laughed; and all The weight of sadness was in wonder lost. Those who have tried to realise Wordsworth's life at Hawkshead will remember that his morning walks Were early. Oft before the hour of school I travelled round our little lake, five miles Of pleasant w^andering.^ He also tells us — • I would walk alone, Under the quiet stars, and at that time. Have felt whate'er there is of power in sound To breathe an elevated mood, by form Or image unprofaned ; and I would stand. If the night blackened with a coming storm, Beneath soliie rock, listening to notes that are The ghostly language of the ancient earth, Or make their dim abode in distant winds. Thence did I drink the visionary power ; ^ ^ The Prelude, book v. p. 46. - Ibid, book ii. p. 45. AS INTERPRETP:D by WORDSWORTH. 25 Nor seldom did I lift our cottage latch Far earlier, ere one smoke-wreath had risen From human dwelling, or the. vernal thrush Was audible ; and sate among the woods Alone upon some jutting eminence, At the first gleam of dawn-light, when the Vale, Yet slumbering, lay in utter solitude. How shall I seek the origin I where find Faith in the marvellous things which then I felt ? Oft in these moments such a holy calm Would overspread my soul, that bodily eyes Were utterly forgotten, and what I saw Appeared like something in myself, a dream, A prospect in the mind.^ A passage follows this in T/ic Prelude which refers to the way in which, even in his seventeenth year, he received the influences of Nature, and dealt with them. It gives us a key to all that is most distinctive in Wordsworth's poetry, and is so superior to the vagueness of Goethe's sentence about the Poet, and The stream of song that out of his bosom springs. And to his heart the world back coiling brings, that I may quote it also. An auxiliar light Came from my mind, which on the setting sun Bestowed nev/ splendour ; the melodious birds, The fluttering breezes, fountains that run on Murmuring so sweetly in themselves, obeyed A like dominion, and the midnight storm Grew darker in the presence of my eye : ^ From Nature and her overflowing soul, I had received so much, that all my thoughts ^ The Prelude, book ii. p. 47. - Ibid, book ii. p. <8. 26 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Were steeped in feeling ; I was only then Contented, Avhen with bliss ineffable I felt the sentiment of Being spread O'er all that moves and all that seemeth still O'er all that, lost beyond the reach of thought ; And human knowledge, to the human eye Invisible, yet liveth to the heart; O'er all that leaps and runs, and shouts and sings, Or beats the gladsome air; o'er all that glides Beneath the wave, yea, in the wave itself, And mighty depth of waters. Wonder not If high the transport, great the joy I felt, Communing in this sort through earth and heaven With every form of creature, as it looked Towards the Uncreated with a countenance Of adoration, with an eye of love. One song they sang, and it was audible, Most audible, then, when the fleshly ear, O'ercome by humblest prelude of that strain, Forgot her functions, and slept undisturbed.^ We do not know the precise situation of the house in the vale of Esthwaite, or of Yewdale, where, during a summer vacation, 'mid a throng Of maids and youths, old men and matrons staid, A medley of all tempers, he had passed A night in dancing, gaiety, and mirth. There is more than one such mountain farm in the district. It cannot have been far from Hawks- head, and must have been somewhere between it and Coniston. He may have looked down either ^ The Prehtde, book ii. p. 49. AS INTERPRETED V>Y WORDSWORTH. 27 into Yewdale to the right, or Esthwaite to the south, or across to Latterbarrow to the left. His unequalled description of his return homeward at early morning, and the effect produced upon him by the calm and the splendour of the dawn, must be quoted. Magnificent The morning rose, in memorable pomp, Glorious as ere I had beheld — in front. The sea lay laughing at a distance ; near, The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds, Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light ; And in the meadows and the lower grounds Was all the sweetness of a common dawn — Dews, vapours, and the melody of birds, And labourers going forth to till the fields. Ah I need I say, dear Friend I that to the brim My heart was full ; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me ; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated Spirit. On I walked In thankful blessedness, which yet survives.^ The "labourers'' in the fields were probably in the arable valley of Esthwaite to the left, and the " solid mountains " were probably Coniston, Old Man, and Wetherlam to the right ; the sea " laughing at a distance " being seen across Duddon sands. Dr. Cradock suggested the following as to that morning walk : " All that can be safely said as to the course of that memorable morning walk is this, that in the neighbourhood a view of the sea can only be obtained at a considerable elevation ; also that if the words, ' in front the sea lay laughing,' are to be taken as rigidly exact, the poet's progress 1 T/ie Prelude, book iv. p. 98. 28 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT towards Hawkshead must have been in a direction mainly southwardly, and therefore from the country north of that place ; these, and all other conditions of the description, are answered in several parts of the range of hills lying between Esthwaite and Hawkshead." In the fourth book of The Prelude he describes the road from Windermere to Hawkshead, past Sawrey, by which he returned from a regatta on Windeniiere ; and the place on that road where he met the old dismissed soldier travelling home- wards, may be easily guessed. ... .a long ascent, Where the road's watery surface, to the top Of that sharp rising, glittered to the moon. And bore the semblance of another stream, Stealing with silent lapse to join the brook That murmured in the vale.^ There is no difficulty in identifying this spot. The brook is Sawrey beck ; and the " long ascent " is the second of the two, in crossing from Winder- mere to Hawkshead, which goes over the ridge between the two Sawreys. It is only there that a brook could be heard " murmuring in the vale." Another poem, composed in part while at school at Hawkshead, is entitled, cumbrously enough, Li7ies left upon a seat 07i a Yew-tree^ wJiich stands near the Lake o/Esthivaite, on a desolate part of the shore^ commanding a beautiful prospect. In 1843 Wordsworth said: " The tree has disappeared, and the slip of common on which it stood, that ran parallel to the lake and lay open to it, has long been enclosed, so that the road has lost much of its attraction. This spot was my favourite walk in the ^ The Prelude, book ii. p. 100. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 29 evenings during the latter part of my school-time." The exact place where the yew-tree stood may be found without difficulty. It was about three- quarters of a mile from Hawkshead, on the eastern shore of the lake as you go towards Sawrey, a little above the highway. Mr. Bowman, the son of Wordsworth's last teacher at the grammar school, tells me that it stood about forty yards nearer Hawkshead than the yew which now stands on the roadside and is sometimes called " Wordsworth's yew." In his school-days the road passed right through the unenclosed common, and the tree was a conspicuous object. It was removed, he says, owing to the popular belief that its leaves were poisonous, and might injure the cattle grazing in the common. I heard some persons in Hawkshead call the present tree Wordsworth's yew ; and doubt- less its proximity to the place where the tree of the poem grew has given rise to the tradition. Nay, Traveller I rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands Far from all human dwelling : what if here No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb? What if the iDee love not these barren boughs. Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves. That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind By one soft impulse saved from vacancy. Who he was That piled these stones and with the mossy sod First covered, and here taught this aged Tree With its dark arms to form a circling bower, I well remember. — He was one who owned No common soul. In youth by science nursed, And led by nature into a wild scene Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth A favoured Being, knowing no desire Which genius did not hallow ; 'gainst the taint Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate. 30 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT And scorn, — against all enemies prepared, All but neglect. The world, for so it thought Owed him no service ; wherefore he at once With indignation turned himself away. And with the food of pride sustained his soul In solitude. — Stranger I these gloomy boughs Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit, His only visitants a straggling sheep The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper : And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath. And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er. Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life : And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze On the more distant scene,— how lovely 'tis Thou seest, — and he would gaze till it became Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain The beauty, still more beauteous ! Nor, that time. When Nature had subdued him to herself. Would he forget those Beings to whose minds. Warm from the labours of benevolence The world, and human life, appeared a scene Of kindred loveliness : then he would sigh. Inly disturbed, to think that others felt What he must never feel ; and so, lost Man 1 On visionary views would fancy feed. Till his eye streamed with tears. In this deep vale He died, — this seat his only monument. If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms Of young imagination have kept pure. Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride, Howe'er disguised in its own majesty, Is littleness ; that he who feels contempt For any living thing, hath faculties Which he has never used ; that thought with him AS INTERPRETED T.V WORDSWORTH. 3 1 Is in its infancy. The man whose eye Is ever on himself doth look on one, The least of Nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful ever. O be wiser, Thou I Instructed that true knowledge leads to love; True dignity abides with him alone ^ Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart. The following sonnet, which refers to his return to Hawkshead, and to the scenes of his youth, years afterwards, is very characteristic : — " Beloved Vale ! " I said, " When I shall con Those many records of my childish years, Remembrance of myself and of my peers Will press me down : to think of what is gone Will be an awful thought, if life have one." But, when into the Vale I came, no fears Distressed me ; from mine eyes escaped no tears ; Deep thought, or dread remembrance, had I none. By doubts and thousand petty fancies crost I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall : So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small ! A Juggler's balls old Time about him tossed ; I looked, I stared, I smiled, I laughed ; and all The weight of sadness was in wonder lost. Perhaps, however, the most remarkable reference to Hawkshead in The Prelude has yet to be quoted. It occurs in the twelfth book, and its significance is enhanced by these prefatory words : — There are in our existence spots of time. That with distinct pre-eminence retain 32 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT A renovating virtue, whence, depressed our minds Are nourished and invisibly repaired ; A virtue, by which pleasure is enhanced, That penetrates, enables us to mount. When high, more high, and lifts us up when fallen. Such moments Are scattered everywhere, taking their date From our first childhood. ^ He gives an illustration of this from a weird experience on the hills near Cockermouth, where he was riding with "an ancient servant of his father's house," when a mere child, and " could scarcely hold a bridle." He parted from his guide, dismounted through fear, led his horse over "a rough and stony moor," and came to a " bottom," where, " in former times, a murderer had been hung in iron chains." The monumental letters oi his name were carved on the turf ; and the boy fled, and saw, as he re-ascended the bare common, A naked pool that lay beneath the hills, A beacon on the summit, and more near, A girl who bore a pitcher on her head. He says — It was, in truth. An ordinary sight ; but I should need Colours and words that are unknown to man, To paint the visionary dreariness Which, while I looked all round for my lost guide, Invested moorland waste, and naked pool. The beacon crowning the lone eminence. The female and her garments vexed and tossed By the strong wind. - ^ The Prelude, book xii. p. 325. ^ y/,/^^ p^ ^27. AS INTERPRETED P.Y WORDSWORTH. - ;^2 The use he makes of this experience is most characteristic, but the place, I fear, cannot be identified. It may have been amongst the Lorton Fells, or the north-western slopes of Skiddaw. He then proceeds to give another of these memorials of his youth, and one still more noteworthy : — One Christmas-time, On the glad eve of its dear holidays, Feverish, and tired, and restless, I went forth Into the fields, impatient for the sight Of those led palfreys that should bear us home ; My brothers and myself. There rose a crag, That, from the meeting-point of two highways Ascending, overlooked them both, far stretched ; Thither, uncertain on which road to fix My expectation, thither I repaired, Scout-like, and gained the summit ; ^twas a day Tempestuous, dark, and wild, and on the grass I sate half-sheltered by a naked wall ; Upon my right hand couched a single sheep, Upon my left a blasted hawthorn stood ; With those companions at my side, I watched. Straining my eyes intensely, as the mist Gave intermitting prospect of the copse And plain beneath. Ere we to school returned, — That dreary time, — ere we had been ten days Sojourners in my father's house, he died. And I and my three brothers, orphans then, Followed his body to the grave. The event. With all the sorrow that it brought, appeared A chastisement ; and when I called to mind That day so lately past, when from the crag I looked in such anxiety of hope ; With trite reflections of morality. Yet in the deepest passion, I bowed low To God, who thus corrected my desires ; And, afterwards, the wind and sleety rain, E 34 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT And all the business of the elements, The single sheep, and the one blasted tree, And the bleak music from that old stone wall, The noise of wood and water, and the mist That on the line of each of those two roads Advanced in such indisputable shapes ; All these were kindred spectacles and sounds To which I oft repaired, and thence would drink, As at a fountain ; and on winter nights, Down to this very time, when storm and rain Beat on my roof, or, haply, at noon-day, While in a grove I walk, whose lofty trees, Laden with summer's thickest foliage, rock In a strong wind, some working of the spirit. Some inward agitations thence are brought, Whate'er their office, whether to beguile Thoughts over busy in the course they took. Or animate an hour of vacant ease.^ The precise time of this second experience is easily ascertained from the date of his father's death ; and though the locality is difficult to determine, it must, I think, be one of two places. His father died at Penrith, and it was there that the sons went for their Christmas holiday. The road from Penrith to Hawkshead was by Kirk- stone Pass and Ambleside ; and the " led palfreys " sent to carry the boys home would certainly come through the latter town. Now there are only two roads from Ambleside to Hawkshead, which meet at a point about a mile north of Hawkshead, called in the Ordnance map " Outgate." The eastern road is now chiefly used by carriages, being less hilly and better made than the western one, which passes the little public-house at the cross roads, and then joins the coach road between Ambleside and ^ The Prehtde, book xii. p. 329. AS INTERPRETED HY WORDSWORTH. 35 Coniston. The western road is not longer, and would be quite as convenient as the other for horses. Supposing one to walk out from Hawks- head, reach the point at which the roads separate at " Outgate," and then to ascend the ridge between them, he would come to several points from which he could overlook both roads " far stretched," if his view were not partly intercepted by numerous plantations. Dr. Cradock, to whom I am indebted for this suggestion, thinks that " a point marked in the map as ' High Crag,' between the two roads, and about three-quarters of a mile from their point of divergence, answers the description as well as any other. It may be nearly two miles from Hawkshead, a distance of which an eager, active schoolboy would think nothing. ' The blasted haw- thorn,' and 'the naked wall,' are probably things of the past as much as the ' single sheep.' " Undoubtedly this may be the spot ; a green, rocky knoll with a steep face to the north, where a quarry is wrought, and with a plantation to the east. It commands a view of both roads. The other possible place is a crag, not a quarter of a mile from Outgate, a little to the right of the place where the two roads divide. A low wall runs up across it to the top, dividing a plantation of oak, hazel, and ash from the firs that crown the summit. These firs, which are larch and spruce, seem all of this century. The summit may have been bare when Wordsworth lived at Hawkshead. But at the foot of the path, along the dividing wall, there are a few (possibly older) trees ; and a solitary walk beneath them at noon or dusk is almost as solemn and suggestive as repose under the yews of Borrowdale, listening to the "mountain flood" on Glaramara. The " loud dry wind " may still be heard whistling through the underwood, and moaning amongst the fir-trees ; and at the summit of the crag 36 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT there is a very old blackthorn tree. But the same may be said of High Crag, which certainly commands a further view of the two roads, it being more than half a mile nearer Ambleside. I entertain no doubt that the precise spot to which the boy Wordsworth climbed on that eventful day, which impressed itself so deeply upon the tablets of his memory, was either one or other of these two crags. One reason of the difficulty we find in identi- fying places referred to in The Prelude^ is due to its having been a posthumous publication. Had Miss Fenwick been able to cross-question the poet about it, as she did about the other poems, many obscure allusions would have been cleared up, and much invaluable commentary supplied. In the fine fragment from the same poem, written in Germany in 1797, and first published in the Lyrical Ballads^ 1800 — though afterwards inserted in The Prelude — we have another reference to the Hawkshead district. There was a Boy : ye knew him well, ye cliffs And islands of Winander 1 — many a time At evening, when the earliest stars began To move along the edges of the hills, Rising or setting, would he stand alone Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake. And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands Pressed closely palm to palm, and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument. Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls. That they might answer him ; and they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call, with quivering peals, And long halloos and screams, and echoes long Redoubled and redoubled, concourse wild AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. yj Of jocund din; and, when a lengthened pause Of silence came and baffled his iDest skill, Then sometimes, in that silence while he hung Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise Has carried far into his heart the voice Of mountain torrents ; or the visible scene Would enter unawares into his mind, With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received Into the bosom of the steady lake. This Boy was taken from his mates, and died In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old. Fair is the spot, most beautiful the vale Where he was born ; the grassy churchyard hangs Upon a slope above the village school. And through that churchyard when my way has led On summer evenings, I believe that there A long half-hour together I have stood Mute, looking at the grave in which he lies I ^ The only information we get as to this poem in the I. F. MS. is the brief intimation, that of all the poet's schoolfellows, one, William Raincock of Rayrigg, took the lead in the art of making a musical instrument of his own fingers ! but whether he is the same immortal boy whom the cliffs and islands of Windermere knew so well, and whether it is he who is buried in Hawkshead churchyard, "above the village school," on whose grave the poet used to gaze so raptly, cannot even be conjectured. No visitor, however, to that "grassy churchyard" will fail to recall these lines about " the gentle shock of mild surprise," in reference to which Coleridge said, that had he met with them while traversing the deserts of Arabia, he would immediately have shouted out " Wordsworth." * The Prelude, book v. p. 122. 38 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT The following seems at first sight to refer to the Hawkshead cottage ; but I have been unable to iden- tify the " smooth rock wet with constant springs " — A diamond light (Whene'er the summer sun, declining, smote A smooth rock wet with constant springs) was seen Sparkling from out a copse-clad bank that rose Fronting our cottage. Oft beside the hearth Seated, with open door, often and long Upon this restless lustre have I gazed. That made my fancy restless as itself. 'Twas now for me a burnished silver shield Suspended over a knight's tomb, who lay Inglorious, buried in the dusky wood: An entrance now into some magic cave Or palace built by fairies of the rock ; Nor could I have been bribed to disenchant The spectacle, by visiting the spot. Thus wilful Fancy, in no hurtful mood. Engrafted far-fetched shapes on feelings bred By pure imagination ; busy Power She was, and with her ready pupil turned Instinctively to human passions, then Least understood.! Nothing corresponding to this can be seen from Anne Tyson's cottage. There is no "copse-clad bank" fronting it, and no "smooth rock wet with constant springs," where the "restless lustre" of the sunlight could give rise to fancies so subtle as those recorded in this passage. I am almost inclined to think that in this passage Wordsworth is referring to what he saw from his Grasmere cottage at sunset, long afterwards, on the slopes of Loughrigg or Silver How. In any case, the way in which the fancy of the boy poet dealt with this " restless lustre," will recall the way in which his 1 The Prelude, book vii. p. 223. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 39 maturer imagination worked amongst the yews of Borrowdale. There is a singularly interesting passage in the same book of The Prelude^ entitled " Retrospect," in which he quotes and recasts some lines he wrote when a boy at Hawkshead. Every one who knows anything of Wordsworth must remember the Cojiclusion of a Poem com^posed in anticipation of leaving School. It was written in his sixteenth year, and the extract from it, with which every edition of his poems after 1815 begins, is as follows : — Dear native regions, I foretell. From what I feel at this farewell. That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend, And whensoe'er my course shall end, If in that hour a single tie Survive of local sympathy, My soul will cast the backward view, The longing look alone on you. Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest Far in the regions of the west. Though to the vale no parting beam Be given, not one memorial gleam, A lingering light he fondly throws On the dear hills where first he rose. This was recast, in the blank verse of The Pre- lude, thus — A grove there is whose boughs Stretch from the western marge of Thurston-mere, With lengths of shade so thick that whoso glides Along the line of low-roofed water, moves As in a cloister. Once — while in that shade Loitering, I watched the golden beams of light Flung from the setting sun, as they reposed In silent beauty on the naked ridge Of a high eastern hill — thus flowed my thoughts In a pure stream of words fresh from the heart : 40 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Dear native Regions, wheresoe'er shall close My mortal course, there will I think on you ; Dying, will cast on you a backward look; Even as this setting sun (albeit the Vale Is nowhere touched by one memorial gleam) Doth with the fond remains of his last power Still linger, and a farewell lustre sheds On the dear mountain-tops where first they rose.i Though the former was the impromptu utterance of a boy of sixteen, some will prefer its fresh sim- plicity to the new version written in the poet's manhood. The reference to "Thurston-mere" has puzzled many readers of The Prelude^ and it is a good illustration of the need of some topo- graphical commentary to the poems. The I. F. note is as follows : " The image with which this poem concludes suggested itself to me while I was resting in a boat along with my companions, under the shade of a magnificent row of sycamores, which then extended their branches from the shore of the promontory upon which stands the ancient, and at that time more picturesque. Hall of Coniston."^ Now there is nothing in the poem definitely to connect " Thurston-mere " with Coniston, though their identity is suggested. I find, however, that Thurston was the ancient name of Coniston. ^ The site of that grove " on the shore of the promontory" is easily identified, though the grove itself is gone. Another extract from The Prelude may be given here, as it describes a district close at hand, the estuary of the Leven, Morecambe Bay, the ruins of a Roman chapel on a rocky islet, and a ^ The Prelude, book viii. p. 226. ^ Prose Works ^\o\. iii. p. 4. ^ See Lewis's Topographical Dictionary of England, vol. i. p. 662; also the Edinburgh Gazetteer (1822), articles ThurstoJt and Coniston. UITIVERSITY C.^LlFOriNl' V AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 4 1 characteristic incident in the poet's hfe, in his twenty-fourth year, shortly after his return to England from his one yearns residence in France. The "honoured teacher of his youth" was the Rev. William Taylor, who was buried in Cartmell churchyard, and to visit whose grave the pupil turned aside that morning, from his route over the Ulverstone sands. ^ O Friend ! few happier moments have been mine Than that which told the downfall of this Tribe So dreaded, so abhorred. The day deserves A separate record. Over the smooth sands Of Leven's ample estuary lay My journey, and beneath a genial sun. With distant prospect among gleams of sky And clouds, and intermingling mountain tops. In one inseparable glory clad. Creatures of one ethereal substance met In consistory, like a diadem Or crown of burning seraphs as they sit In the empyrean. Underneath that pomp Celestial, lay unseen the pastoral vales Among whose happy fields I had grown up From childhood. On the fulgent spectacle, That neither passed away nor changed, I gazed Enrapt ; but brightest things are wont to draw Sad opposites out of the inner heart. As even their pensive influence drew from mine. How could it otherwise ? for not in vain That very morning had I turned aside To seek the ground where, 'mid a throng of graves. An honoured teacher of my )'outh was laid. And on the stone were graven by his desire Lines from the churchyard elegy of Gray. This faithful guide, speaking from his deathbed. Added no farewell to his parting counsel, ^ Mevioif's, vol. i. p. 38. 42 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT, But said to me, " My head will soon lie low ; " And when I saw the turf that covered him, After the lapse of full eight years, those words, With sound of voice and countenance of the Man, Came back upon me, so that some few tears Fell from me in my own despite. But now I thought, still traversing that widespread plain. With tender pleasure of the verses graven Upon his tombstone, whispering to myself: He loved the Poets, and, if now alive. Would have loved me, as one not destitute Of promise, nor belying the kind hope That he had formed, when I, at his command. Began to spin, with toil, my earliest songs. As I advanced, all that I saw or felt Was gentleness and peace. Upon a small And rocky island near, a fragment stood (Itself like a sea rock) the low remains (With shells encrusted, dark with briny weeds) Of a dilapidated structure, once A Romish chapel, where the vested priest Said matins at the hour that suited those Who crossed the sands w4th ebb of morning tide. Not far from that still ruin all the plain Lay spotted with a variegated crowd Of vehicles and travellers, horse and foot, Wading beneath the conduct of their guide In loose procession through the shallow stream Of inland waters ; the great sea meanwhile Heaved at safe distance, far retired. I paused Longing for skill to paint a scene so bright And cheerful, but the foremost of the band As he approached, no salutation given In the familiar language of the day. Cried, "Robespierre is dead !" . Great was my transport, etc.^ ^ The Prelude, book x. p. 228. CHAPTER III. DOVE COTTAGE. The cottage at Grasmere, to which Wordsworth came with his sister in one of the last days of last century (December 21, 1799), is, even more than Rydal Mount, "identified with his poetic prime." It had once been a public-house, bearing- the sign of the Dove and Olive Bough, from which circumstance it was for a long time, and is still occasionally, named "Dove Cottage." It is a small two-storied house. "The front of it faces the lake ; behind is a small plot of orchard and garden ground, in which there is a spring and rocks ; the enclosure shelves upwards towards the woody sides of the mountain above it."i This plot of orchard ground is ours ; My trees they are, my sister's flowers. He writes thus of his settlement at Grasmere, and of his sister — On Nature's invitation do I come, By Reason sanctioned. Can the choice mislead. That made the calmest, fairest spot on earth. With all its unappropriated good, My own, and not mine only, for with me ^ Memoirs^ vol. i. p. 156. 44 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Entrenched, say rather peacefully embowered, A younger orphan of a home extinct, The only daughter of my parents, dwells ; Ay, think on that, my heart, and cease to stir ; Pause upon that, and let the breathing frame No longer breathe, but all be satisfied. Where'er niy footsteps turned. Her voice was like a hidden bird that sang ; The thought of her was like a flash of light Or an unseen companionship, a breath, A fragrance independent of the wmd. Embrace me, then, ye hills, and close me in, Now in the clear and open day I feel Your guardianship : I take it to my heart : "Tis like the solemn shelter of the night. But I would call thee beautiful ; for mild And soft, and gay, and beautiful thou art. Dear valley, having in thy face a smile, Though peaceful, full of gladness. Thou art pleased. Pleased with thy crags, and woody steeps, thy lakes, Its one green island, and its winding shores. The multitude of little rocky hills. Thy church, and cottages of mountain stone, Clustered like stars some few, but single most. And lurking dimly in their shy retreats. Or glancing at each other cheerful looks. Like separated stars with clouds between.^ The above reference to his "sole sister" Dorothy is so exquisite, and hers was a nature so rarely endowed, while their relationship as brother and sister v/as in many respects unique, that three other ^Me/noirs, vol. i. pp. 157, 158. AS INTERPRETED V.Y WORDSWORTH. 45 references to her from 77/^? Prelude^ which need no commentary, may here be quoted — And yet I knew a maid, A young enthusiast, who escaped these bonds ; Her eye was not the mistress of her heart; Far less did rules prescribed by passive taste. Or barren intermeddling" subtleties. Perplex her mind ; but, wise as women are, She welcomed what was given, and craved no more ; Whate'er the scene presented to her view That was the best, to that she was attuned By her benign simplicity of life. Birds in the bower, and lambs in the green field. Could they have known her, would have loved ; methought Her very presence such a sweetness breathed. That flowers, and trees, and even the silent hills, And everything she looked on should have had An intimation how she bore herself Towards them, and to all creatures.^ Again — I turned to abstract science, and there sought Work for the reasoning faculty enthroned Where the disturbances of space and time . . . Find no admission. Then it was — Thanks to the bounteous Giver of all good ! — That the beloved Sister in whose sight Those days were passed, now speaking in a voice Of sudden admonition — like a brook That did but cross a lonely road, and now Is seen, heard, felt, and caught at every turn Companion never lost through many a league — ^ The Prelude, book xii. p. 323. 46 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Maintained for me a saving intercourse With my true self; She, in the midst of all, preserved me still A Poet, made me seek l^eneath that name, And that alone, my office upon earth ; And, lastly. Led me back through opening day To those sweet counsels between head and heart Whence grew that genuine knowledge, fraught with peace. ^ Again — Child of my parents ! Sister of my soul ! Thanks in sincerest verse have been elsewhere Poured out for all the early tenderness Which I from thee imbibed : and 'tis most true That later seasons owed to thee no less ; For, spite of thy sweet influence and the touch Of kindred hands that opened out the springs Of genial thought in childhood, and in spite Of all that unassisted I had marked In life or nature of those charms minute That win their way into the heart by stealth. Still, to the very going-out of youth, I too exclusively esteemed that love. And sought that beauty, which, as Milton sings, Hath terror in it. Thou didst soften down This over-sternness; but for thee, dear Friend I My soul, too reckless of mild grace, had stood In her original self too confident, Retained too long a countenance severe : A rock with torrents roaring, with the clouds Familiar, and a favourite of the stars : But thou didst plant its crevices with flowers, Hang it with shrubs that twinkle in the breeze, ^ The Pre hide, book xi. p. 309. AS INTERPRETED P.Y WORDSWORTH. 47 And teach the little birds to build their nests And warble in its chambers. At a time When Nature, destined to remain so long Foremost in my affections, had fallen back Into a second place, pleased to become A handmaid to a nobler than herself. When every day brought with it some new sense Of exquisite regard for common things. And all the earth was budding with these gifts Of more refined humanity, thy breath, Dear Sister I was a kind of gentler spring That went before my steps. ^ With these extracts may be associated some stanzas of his Farewell to the cottage, written when he left it in 1802 to be married to Mary Hutchinson — Farewell, thou little Nook of mountain ground. Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair Of that magnificent temple which doth bound One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare ; Sweet garden orchard, eminently fair. The loveliest spot that man hath ever found, Farewell I we leave thee to Heaven's peaceful care, Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost surround. Our boat is safely anchored by the shore. And there will safely ride when we are gone ; The flowering shrubs that deck our humble door Will prosper, though untended and alone : Fields, goods, and far-off chattels we have none : These narrow bounds contain our private store Of things earth makes, and sun doth shine upon : Here are they in our sight — we have no more. Sunshine and shower be with you, bud and bell ! For two months now in vain we shall be sought ; ^ The Prelude, book xiv. p. 362. 48 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT We leave you here in solitude to dwell With these our latest gifts of tender thought ; Thou like the morning in thy saffron coat, Bright gowan, and marsh-marigold, farewell ! Whom from the borders of the lake we brought, And placed together near our rocky Well. We go for One to whom you will be dear ; And she will prize this Bower, this Indian shed. Our own contrivance. Building without peer ! — A gentle Maid, whose heart is lowly bred, Whose pleasures are in wild fields gathered. With joyousness, and with a thoughtful cheer, Will come to you ; to you herself will wed ; And love the blessed life that we lead here. Dear Spot ! which we have watched with tender heed. Bringing these chosen plants and blossoms blown Among the distant mountains, flower and weed. Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own. Making all kindness registered and known Thou for our sakes, though Nature's child indeed. Fair in thyself and beautiful alone, Hast taken gifts which thou dost little need. O happy Garden ! whose seclusion deep Hath been so friendly to industrious hours ; And to soft slumbers, that did gently steep Our spirits, carrying with them dreams of flowers, And wild notes warbled among leafy bowers ; Two burning months let summer overlead. And, coming back with Her who will be ours. Into thy bosom we again shall creep. The following is De Quincey's description of Dove Cottage as he saw it in the summer of 1807: — "A white cottage, with two yew-trees breaking the AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 49 glare of its white walls " (these yews still stand on the eastern side of the cottage). "A little semi- vestibule between two doors prefaced the entrance into what might be considered the principal room of the cottage. It was an oblong square, not above eight and a half feet high, sixteen feet long, and twelve broad ; wainscotted from floor to ceiling with dark polished oak, slightly embellished with carving. One window there was, a perfect and unpretending cottage window, with little diamond panes, embowered at almost every season of the year with roses, and in the summer and autumn with a profusion of jasmine and other shrubs. . . I was ushered up a little flight of stairs, fourteen in all, to a little drawing-room, or whatever the reader chooses to call it. Wordsworth himself has described the fireplace of this room as his ' Half-kitchen and half-parlour fire.' It was not fully seven feet six inches high, and in other respects pretty nearly of the same dimensions as the rustic hall below. There was, however, in a small recess, a library of perhaps 300 volumes, which seemed to consecrate the room as the poet's study and composing room, and such occasionally it was. But far oftener he both studied, as I found, and composed on the highroad." ^ The orchard ground behind the cottage, mostly in grass, slopes upwards, with bits of natural rock seen through it, in which some rough stone steps were cut by Wordsworth and a near neighbour of his, John Fisher, to reach an upper terrace, where he built an arbour. It is not much altered since 1800. This short terrace walk is curved, with a sloping bank of grass above, shaded by apple-trees, hazel, laburnum, holly, laurel, and mountain-ash. ^Recollections of the Lakes, pp. 130 and 137 [Works ^ vol. ii. Edition 1862). F 50 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Below the terrace is the well which supplied the cottage in Wordsworth's time, where rich large- leaved primroses still grow, doubtless the successors of those planted by him and his sister. Here, thronged Avith primroses, the steep rock's breast Glittered at evening like a starry sky ; And in this bush our sparrow built her nest. Of which I sang one song that will not die. Above, in the rocks, are the daffodils which they also brought to their "garden ground ;" the Christ- mas roses which they planted near the well have been removed to the eastern side of the garden, where they flourish luxuriantly. The boxwood planted by the poet grows close to the house. The arbour is gone ; and in the place where it stood a seat is erected. The hidden brook still sings its undersong as it used to do, " its quiet soul on all bestowing :" If you listen, all is still, Save a little neighbouring rill, That from out the rocky ground Strikes a solitary sound. As the poem on The Green Linnet gives perhaps the very best idea of the orchard and garden-ground. Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather. In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat ! And birds and flowers once more to greet. My last year's friends together. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 5 I One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest : Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion I Thou, Linnet I in thy green array, Presiding Spirit here to-day. Dost lead the revels of the May ; And this is thy dominion. While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, Make all one band of paramours, Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, Art sole in thy employment : A Life, a Presence like the Air, Scattering thy gladness without care, Too blest with any one to pair ; Thyself thy own enjoyment. Amid yon tuft of hazel trees. That twinkle to the gusty breeze. Behold him perched in ecstacies, Yet seeming still to hover ; There I where the flutter of his wings Upon his back and body flings Shadows and sunny glimmerings. That cover him all over. My dazzled sight he oft deceives, A Brother of the dancing leaves ; Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves Pours forth his song in gushes ; As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain The voiceless Form he chose to feign, While fluttering in the bushes. The second in the first series of the Miscel- lancoics Sonnets may also refer to Dove Cottage, 52 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT although some of the details are scarcely applicable. There is no "brook" within the cottage grounds, and scarcely anything in the garden to warrant the phrase, "its own small pasture." Well may'st thou halt — and gaze with brighten- ing eye ! The lovely Cottage in the guardian nook Hath stirred thee deeply ; v.ith its own dear brook, Its own small pasture, almost its own sky! But covet not the Abode : — forbear to sigh. As many do, repining while they look ; Intruders — who would tear from Nature's book This precious leaf, with harsh impiety. Think what the Home must be if it were thine, Even thine, though few thy wants ! — Roof, window, door. The very flowers are sacred to the Poor, The roses to the porch which they entwine : Yea, all, that now enchants thee, from the day On which it should be touched, would melt away. Here, too, in the arbour he watched the Redbreast chasing the Butterfly^ on which he wrote the lines. Art thou the bird whom Man loves best, The pious bird with the scarlet breast, Our little English Robin ; The bird that comes about our doors When autumn winds are sobbing? etc. and those addressed to The Kitteii and the falling Leaves^ sporting with them as they fell from the lofty elder-tree; with the description of the blue- cap: — blest as bird could be. Feeding in the apple-tree ; Making wanton spoil and rout, Turning blossoms inside out. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 53 In this poem (as in The Green Liiutet), in dealing with the simplest and most familiar of sights, there is all the fine spiritual sense and unerring imagina- tive insight of the poet. He knows that enjoyments dwell In the impenetrable cell Of the silent he^t, which Nature Furnishes to every creature. He sees that there is "a light of gladness" in the freaks of the kitten; and that it imparts "a living force" to the countenance of his infant child, and he says — I will have my careless season Spite of melancholy reason, Will walk through life in such a way That, when time brings on decay, Now and then I may possess Hours of perfect gladsomeness, — Pleased by any random toy ; By a kitten's busy joy. Or an infant's laughing eye Sharing in the ecstacy ; I would fare like that or this, Find my wisdoni in my bliss ; Keep the sprightly soul awake. And have faculties to take. Even from things by sorrow wrought. Matter for a jocund thought. Spite of care and spite of grief. To gambol with Life's falling Leaf. Here, too, he wrote the stanzas in his pocket copy of Thomson's Castle of Indolence^ in which occurs the description of his friend Coleridge, of which Hartley said, that "his father's character and history are preserved in a livelier way, than in anything that has been written about him." 54 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Dove Cottage has now been purchased for the nation and for posterity, as Shakespeare's home at Stratford was secured. It is to the Rev. Stopford Brooke and his brother, Mr. WiHiam Brooke of Dubhn, that the entire credit of this is due. The proposal had been made long ago, but no steps were taken to realise it. As far back as 1862, it was thought of, and in 1876 Dr. Cradock and I went over the house, with a view to see what would require to be done to it in the event of its purchase. Later, Mr. Rawnsley took up the idea. It was brought forward at meetings of the Wordsworth Society, but Mr. Rawnsley's later idea was to secure Greta Hall, Keswick, the house of Coleridge and Southey, also classic ground, and make it a sort of Valhalla for memorials of the poets of the Lake Country. In 1884 it was examined carefully, with this end in view, but the difficulty of raising funds was insuperable. At last Mr. Brooke and his brother visited the district of Grasmere in 1889, and, after inspecting the cottage and the surrounding places memorialised in the poems, made up his mind that it should be secured "for those who love English poetry all over the world." He wrote to the owner, who offered to sell it for ^650 ; and a Committee was formed to carry out the project. A sum of nearly ^1000 was soon raised, and the cottage and its garden purchased. The property is to be conveyed to a Board of Trustees, who will appoint an Executive Committee of Management. Mr. Brooke has written an excellent little book on Dove Cottage, in which he has managed, with rare skill, to weave into his pages almost every point of interest in Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal, and to vivify the whole. The following passages from that Journal con- tain their very best commentary. '''' June 2, 1800. — I sat a long time to watch the AS INTERPRETED P.Y WORDSWORTH. 55 hurrying- waves" (on Rydal), "and to hear the regularly irregular sound of the dashing- waters. The waves round about the little island seemed like a dance of spirits that rose out of the water, round its small circumference of shore. ''''July 26. — The lake was now most still, and reflected the yellow, blue, purple, and grey colours of the sky. We heard a strange sound in the Bainriggs wood as we were floating on the waters : it seemed in the wood, but it must have been above it, for presently we saw a raven very high above us. It called out, and the dome of the sky seemed to echo the sound. It called again and again as it flew onwards, and the mountains gave back the sound, seeming as if, from their centre, a musical, bell-like answering to the bird^s hoarse voice. We heard both the call of the bird, and the echo, after we could see him no longer. ''''October 11. — Walked up Green-head Gill in search of a sheepfold.^ The colour of the mountain, soft, and rich with orange fern ; the cattle pasturing upon the hill tops ; kites sailing in the sky above our heads ; sheep bleating, and feeding in the water courses, scattered over the mountains. They come down to feed, in the little green islands in the beds of the torrents, and so may be swept away. The sheepfold is falling away. It is built nearly in the form of a heart unequally divided. Looked down the brook, and saw the drops rise upwards and sparkle in the air at the little falls. The higher sparkled the tallest. ''^ Nov. 24. — We heard the wind everywhere about us as we went along the lane. We were stopped at once at the distance of fifty yards from our favour- ite birch-tree. It was yielding to the gusty wind with all its tender twigs. The sun shone upon it, ^ Michael's sheepfold. 56 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT and it glanced in the wind like a flying sun-shiny shower. It was a tree in shape, with stem and branches, but it was like a spirit of water. The sun went in, and it resumed its purplish appearance, the twigs still yielding to the wind, but not so visibly to us. The other birch-trees that were near it looked brighter and cheerful, but it was a creature by its own self amongst them. ^^ Feb. 23, 1801. — We walked to the top of the hill, then to the bridge. The sykes ^ made a sweet sound everywhere ; and in the twilight that little one above Mr. OlifPs house, a ghostly, white serpent line, made a sound most distinctly heard of itself. 23^^. — When we came out of our doors, the thrush was singing upon the topmost of the smaller branches of the ash tree at the top of the orchard. How long it had been perched I cannot tell, but we heard its dear voice in the orchard all the day through, along with a cheerful undersong made by our winter friends the robins. We went to John's Grove, and sate, looking at the fading landscape. The lake, though the olDJects on the shore were fading, seemed brighter than when it is perfect day, and the island, pushed itself upwards, distinct and large. There was a sweet, sea-like sound in the trees above our heads. " April ic). — We went to John's Grove. William and I lay in the the trench under the fence, he with eyes shut, listening to the waterfall and the birds. There was now one waterfall above another — it was a sound of waters in the air — the voice of the air. We were unseen by one another. We thought it would be so sweet thus to be in the grave, to hear the peaceful sounds of the earth, and just to know that our dear friends are near. The lake was still : there was a boat out. Silver How reflected with ^ Small streams, almost runlets. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 57 delicate purple and yellowish hues, as I have seen spar : lambs on the island, and running- races together by the dozen in the round field near us. As I lay down on the grass, I observed the glittering silver line on the ridge of the backs of the sheep, owing to their situation respecting the sun, which made them look beautiful, but with something" of strange- ness, like animals of another kind, as if belonging to a more splendid \\orld. "J/rtj 6. — We have put the finishing stroke to our bower, and here we are sitting in the orchard. It is one o'clock. We are sitting upon a seat under the wall, which I found my brother building up when I came to him. He had intended that it should have been done before I came. It is a nice, cool, shady spot. The small birds are singing, lambs bleating, cuckoos calling, the thrush sings by fits ; Thomas Ashburnam's axe is going quietly, without passion, in the orchard ; hens are cackling, flies humming, the women talking together at their doors, plum and pear trees are in blossom, apple trees greenish, the opposite woods green, the crows are cawing, we have heard ravens, the ash trees are in blossom, birds flying all about us, the stitchwort is coming out, there is our budding lychnis, the primroses are passing their prime, celandine, violets, and wood-sorrel for ever more, little geraniums and pansies on the wall. The moon a perfect boat, a silver boat ; the birch tree all over green in small leaf, more light and elegant than when it is full out. It bent to the breezes as if for the love of its own delightful motions. Sloethorns and hawthorns in the hedges." These are samples of the wonderful Grasniere Journal of Dorothy Wordsworth, for a fuller idea of which readers of this book must be referred to the first \'olume of the Life of WilUajn Words- luorfh, by the present writer, published in 1889. CHAPTER IV. GRASMERE, ETC. The poems that most naturally recur to one's memory, in thinking" of Wordsworth as the inter- preter of Grasmere, are those in that exquisite series of seven 0?! the Na?ni?ig of Places. In an "advertisement" to this series, Wordsworth said: "By persons resident in the country and attached to rural objects, many places will be found unnamed or of unknown name, w^iere little incidents must have occurred, or feelings been experienced, which will have given to such places a private and peculiar interest. From a wish to give some sort of record to such incidents, and renew the gratification of such feelings. Names have been given to Places by the author and some of his friends, and the following poems written in consequence." While the third, fourth, sixth, and seventh of these "places" are easily identified, I think it possible that the poet did not wish the other three to be known with absolute accuracy. In reference to the second — entitled To Joan?ia — when walking with some friends, and asked to name the rock referred to, he gave an evasive answer. They were passing Butterlip How at the time, and he replied, "Any place that will suit; that as well as any other." I cannot think that he made his answer vague — and his note dictated to Miss Fenwick still vaguer — with the view of "puzzling posterity;'"' but THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. 59 perhaps he did not care to localise everythini,'-, and he may have disliked to be cross-examined upon such personal matters. The first of these Poems on the Naming of Places is as follows : — It was an April morning: fresh and clear The Rivulet, delighting in its strength, Ran with a young man's speed ; and yet the voice Of waters which the winter had supplied Was softened down into a vernal tone. The spirit of enjoyment and desire, And hopes and wishes, from all living things Went circling, like a multitude of sounds, The budding groves seemed eager to urge on The steps of June; as if their various hues Were only hindrances that stood between Them and their object : but, meanwhile, prevailed Such an entire contentment in the air That every naked ash, and tardy tree Yet leafless, showed as if the countenance With which it looked on this delightful day Were native to the summer. — Up the brook I roamed in the confusion of my heart, Alive to all things and forgetting all. At length I to a sudden turning came In this continuous glen, where down a rock The Stream, so ardent in its course before, Sent forth such sallies of glad sound that all Which I till then had heard appeared the voice Of common pleasure : beast and bird, the lamb. The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrusK Vied with this waterfall, and made a song Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth Or like some natural produce of the air, That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here ; 6o THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT But 'twas the foliage of the rocks — the birch, The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn, With hanging islands of resplendent furze : And, on a summit, distant a short space, By any who should look beyond the dell, A single mountain-cottage might be seen. I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said, "Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook, My Emma, I will dedicate to thee." Soon did the spot become my other home. My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode. And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there, To whom I sometimes in our idle talk Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps, Years after we are gone and in our graves. When they have cause to speak of this wild place. May call it by the name of Emma's Dell. In reference to it, Wordsworth said to Miss Fenwick, "This poem was suggested on the banks of the brook that runs through Easdale, which is, in some parts of its course, as wild and beautiful as brook can be. I have composed thousands of verses by the side of it."^ The brook is therefore Easdale beck. But where is "Emma's Dell?" In the autumn of 1877, Dr. Cradock took me to a place of which he writes : "I have a fancy for a spot just beyond Goody Bridge to the left, where the brook makes a curve, and returns to the road two hundred yards further on. But I have not dis- covered a trace of authority in favour of the idea, further than that the wooded bend of the brook with the stepping-stones across it, connected with a field-path recently stopped, was a very favourite haunt of Wordsworth's. At the upper part of this bend, near to the place where the brook returns to ^ Prose Works._ vol. iii. p. 29. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 6l the road, is a deep pool at the foot of a rush of water. A sad accident occurred there many years ago. A man named Wilson was drowned in the pool. He lived at a house on the hill, called Score Crag, which, if my conjecture as to Emma's Dell is right, is the 'single mountain cottage' on a 'summit, distant a short space.' Wordsworth, happening to be walking at no great distance, heard a loud shriek. It was that of old Wilson, the father, who had just discovered his son's body in the beck." In the Reminiscences of the poet, by the Hon. Mj. Justice Coleridge,^ he tells us of a walk they took up Easdale to this very place, entering the field just at the spot v/hich Dr. Cradock concludes to be " Emma's Dell." " He turned aside at a little farmhouse, and took us into a swelling field, to look down on the tumbling stream which bounded it, and which we saw precipitated at a distance, in a broad white sheet, from the mountain." (This of course refers to Easdale Force.) " Then, as he mused for an instant, he said, ' I have often thought what a solemn thing it would be could we have brought to our mind at once all the scenes of dis- tress and misery which any spot, however beautiful and calm before us, has been witness to since the beginning. That water-break, with the glassy quiet pool beneath it, that looks so lovely, and presents no images to the mind but of peace — there, I remember, the only son of his father, a poor man who lived yonder, was drowned." '^ This walk and conversation took place in October 1836. If any one is surprised that the poet, if then standing opposite, and looking down into "Emma's Dell'" (of Avhich he had said such exquisite things in 1800) did not name it as such to Mr. Coleridge, he must 1 Prose Works, p. 423. - Ibid. vol. iii p. 431. 62 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT remember that thirty-six years is a long interval ; and that, in 1836, Wordsworth's " sister Emmeline " had for a year been a confirmed invalid at Rydal. I have repeatedly followed the Easdale beck all the way up from its junction with the Rothay to the Tarn, and found no spot corresponding" so closely to the minute realistic detail of this poem as that suggested by Dr. Cradock. There are two places farther up, where " sallies of glad sound " are audible, but they are not at a " sudden turning," as is the spot above Goody Bridge. If one leaves the Easdale road at this bridge, and keeps to the side of the beck for a few hundred yards, till he reaches the " sudden turning," remembering that this path by the brook was a favourite haunt of Wordsworth and his sister, the probability of Dr. Cradock's conjecture will be apparent. Lady Richardson concurred in this identification of the " dell." Of the next poem in the series, addressed To Joanna (Hutchinson), Wordsworth said: "The effect of her laugh is an extravagance, though the effect of the reverberation of voices in some parts of these mountains is very striking. There is in The Excursion an allusion to the bleat of a lamb thus rendered and described, without any exaggera- tion, as I heard it on the side of Stickle Tarn, from the precipice that stretches on to Langdale Pike" (I. F. MS.)i This echo at the foot of Harrison Stickle is easily found. The " precipice " referred to is Pavey Ark. Omitting an introductory passage, the poem is as follows : — While I was seated, now some ten days past Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple tower, ^ Prose Works^ vol. iii. p. 29. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 63 The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by ^ Came forth to greet me ; and when he had asked, "■ How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid ; And when will she return to us ?" he paused ; And, after short exchange of village news, He with grave looks demanded, for what cause, Reviving obsolete idolatry, I, like a Runic Priest, in characters Of formidable size had chiselled out Some uncouth name upon the native rock, Above the Rotha, by the forest-side. — Now, by those dear immunities of heart Engendered between malice and true love, I was not loth to be so catechised, And this was my reply :— " As it befel, One summer morning we had walked abroad At break of day, Joanna and myself. — 'Twas that delightful season when the broom. Full-flowered, and visible in every steep. Along the copses runs in veins of gold. Our pathway led us on to Rotha's banks ; And when we came in front of that tall rock That eastward looks, I there stopped short — and stood Tracing the lofty barrier with my eye From base to summit ; such delight I found To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower. That intermixture of delicious hues. Along so vast a surface, all at once. In one impression, by connecting force Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart. — When I had gazed perhaps two minutes^ space, Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud. •^ The Rectory at Grasmere, "gloomy" enough to Wordsworth by-and-by, where he lived from 181 1 to 18 1 3, and where two of his children died. 64 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT The Rock, like something starting from a sleep, Took up the Lady's voice, and laughed again ; That ancient Woman seated on Helm-crag Was ready with her cavern ; Hammer-scar, And the tall Steep of Silver-how, sent forth A noise of laughter ; southern Loughrigg heard. And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone ; Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky Carried the Lady's voice — old Skiddaw blew His speaking trumpet :— back out of the clouds Of Glaramara southward came the voice ; And Kirkstone tossed it from his misty head. — Now whether (said I to our cordial Friend, Who in the hey-day of astonishment Smiled in my face) this were in simple truth A work accomplished by the brotherhood Of ancient mountains, or my ear was touched With dreams and visionary impulses To me alone imparted, sure I am That there was a loud uproar in the hills And, while we both were listening, to niy side The fair Joanna drew, as if she wished To shelter from some object of her fear. — And hence, long afterwards, when eighteen moons Were wasted, as I chanced to walk alone Beneath this rock, at sunrise, on a calm And silent morning, I sat down, and there, In memory of affections old and true, I chiselled out in those rude characters Joanna's name deep in the living stone : — And I, and all who dwelt by my fireside, Have called the lovely rock, Joanna's Rock." The firs referred to stood by the road side scarcely twenty yards north-west from the steeple. Their site is now included in the road which has been widened at that point. They were Scotch firs of AS INTERPRETED V.V WORDSWORTH. 65 unusual size, and might justly be said to overtop " their neighbour" the tower — no very great feat ! Mr. Fleming Green, who well remembers the trees, gave me the information, which is confirmed by other inhabitants. When the road was enlarged, not many years ago, the roots of the trees were found by the workmen. The " tall rock that eastward looks " by " Rotha's banks," with a " lofty barrier from base to summit," is, I cannot doubt, some portion of Helm Crag. It is clear, however, that there are several deviations from accuracy in the details of this poem. It was written in 1800, and was published that year in the second edition of the Lyrical Ballads. It is ad- dressed to Joanna Hutchinson, who is said to have been absent from Grasmere for two years, and Wordsworth says that he carved the Runic charac- ters, in inej>i07'iain., eighteen months after that summer morning, when he heard the echo of her laugh. But he only took up his residence at Grasmere in 1799. The full effect, however, of this highly imaginative poem is not impaired — it may even be enhanced — by our inability to fix the locality. Can Wordsworth have read Michael Drayton's description of this district P^ ^ Which Copeland scarce had spoke, but quickly every hill. Upon her verge that stands, the neighbour- ing vallies fill ; Helvillion from his height, it through the mountain threw. From whence as soon again, the sound Diinbalrase drew, From whose stone-trofied head, it on the Wendrosse went, Which, tow'rds the sea, resounded it to Dent, G 66 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT The third poem in this series is as follows : — There is an Eminence, — of those our hills The last that parleys with the setting sun ; We can behold it from our orchard-seat ; And, when at evening we pursue our walk Along the public way, this Peak, so high Above us, and so distant in its height. Is visible ; and often seems to send Its own deep quiet to restore our hearts. The meteors make of it a favourite haunt : The star of Jove, so beautiful and large In the mid heavens, is never half so fair As when he shines above it. 'Tis in truth The loneliest place we have among the clouds. And She who dwells with me, whom I have lo\'ed With such communion that no place on earth Can ever be a solitude to me. Hath to this lonely Summit given my Name. This is the hill, called "Stone Arthur," which rises to the east of the road from Grasmere up Dunmail Raise, between Green Head Ghyll and Tongue Ghyll. "It is not accurate," Wordsworth himself naively said to Miss Fenwick, "that the eminence could be seen from our orchard-seat." It is visible from their garden. The fourth poem begins thus : — A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags, A rude and natural causeway, interposed That Bj'odzvater^ therewith within her banks astound, In sailing to the sea, told it to Egrei/iound, Whose buildings, walks, and streets, with echoes loud and long, Did mightily commend old Copland for her song. Polyolbion, Song xxx. 11. 155-164. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH, 67 Between the water and a winding slope Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy : And there myself and two beloved Friends, One calm September morning, ere the mist Had altogether yielded to the sun, Sauntered on this retired and difficult way. Ill suits the road with one in haste ; but we Played with our time ; and, as we strolled along, It was our occupation to observe Such objects as the waves had tossed ashore — Feather, or leaf, or weed, or withered bough, Each on the other heaped, along the line Of the dry vvreck. And, in our vacant mood. Not seldom did we stop to watch some tuft Of dandelion seed or thistle's beard, That skimmed the surface of the dead calm lake, Suddenly halting now — a lifeless stand ! And starting off again with freak as sudden ; In all its sportive wanderings, all the while, Making report of an invisible breeze That was its wings, its chariot, and its horse, Its playmate, rather say, its moving soul. And often, trifling with a privilege Alike indulged to all, we paused, one now, And now the other, to point out, perchance To pluck, some flower or water-weed, too fair Either to be divided from the place On which it grew, or to be left alone To its own beauty. Many such there are, Fair ferns and flowers, and chiefly that tall fern. So stately, of the queen Osmunda named ; Plant lovelier, in its own retired abode On Grasmere's beach, than Naiad by the side Of Grecian brook, or Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old remance. In Wordsworth's early days at Grasmere, a wild 68 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT woodland path of quiet beauty led from Dove Cot- tage along the margin of the lake to this " point," leaving the eastern shore truly " safe in its own privacy," — a " retired and difficult way." The only road for conveyances went at that time over White Moss Common. The late Dr. Arnold gave the following names to the three roads from Rydal to Grasmere : the highest, " Old Corruption ; " the intermediate, " Bit by Bit Reform ;" the lowest and most level, " Radical Reform." Wordsworth was never quite reconciled to the radical reform effected on a road that used to be so delightfully wild and picturesque. How could he ? The two friends alluded to in this poem were his sister Dorothy and Coleridge. The rest of it need not be quoted. The spot, which they rather infeli- citously named " Point Rash-judgment," is easily identified ; although, as Wordsworth remarks, " the character of the shore is changed, by the public road being carried along its side." The three friends were quite aware that this " memorial name" of theirs was "uncouth." In spite of its awkwardness, the name will probably survive, though scarcely for Browning's reason — The better the uncouther : Do roses stick like burrs ? The fifth poem is the following — TO M. H. Our walk was far among the ancient trees ; There was no road, nor any woodman's path ; But a thick umbrage — checking the wild growth Of weed and sapling, along soft green turf Beneath the branches — of itself had made AS INTERPRETED V.Y WORDSWORTH. 69 A track, that brought us to a slip of lawn, And a small bed of water in the woods. All round this pool both flocks and herds might drink On its firm margin, even as from a well, Or some stone basin, which the herdsman's hand Had shaped for their refreshment ; nor did sun. Or wind from any quarter ever come. But as a blessing to this calm recess. This glade of water and this one green field. The spot was made by Nature for herself ; The travellers know it not, and 'twill remain Unknown to them; but it is beautiful; And if a man should plant his cottage near. Should sleep beneath the shelter of its trees. And blend its waters with his daily meal, He would so love it that in his death-hour Its image would survive among his thoughts : And therefore, my sweet Mary, this still Nook, With all its beeches, we have named from You ! Of this poem Wordsworth says, "To Mary Hutchinson, two years before our marriage. The pool alluded to is in Rydal Upper Park" (I. F. MS.). To find this pool, I have carefully examined the course of the beck, all the way up to the foot of Rydal Fell. There is a pool beyond the enclosures of the Hall property, when you have ascended about 500 feet above Rydal Mount, which partly corre- sponds to the description, but there is wood around it ; and the trees that skirt the margin are birch, ash, oak, hazel, but there are no beeches. It is a deep crystal pool, and has a " firm margin " of (arti- ficially placed) stones. It is a short way below some fine specimens of ice-worn rocks, which are to the right of the stream as you ascend it, and above these rocks is a well-marked moraine. The spot referred to in the poeniniay be eitlg^ the 70 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT above, or another (perhaps more likely) within the grounds of the Hall. It is a sequestered nook, beside the third waterfall — which is itself a treble fall. Seen two or three days after rain, when the stream is full enough to break over the whole face of the rock in showers of snowy brightness, yet low enough to show the rock behind its transparent veil, it is inexpressibly lovely. Trees change so much in eighty years, that the absence of "beeches" now would not make this site impossible. Of the circular pool beneath this triple fall it may be said, as Wordsworth describes it, . . . Both flocks and herds might drink On its firm margin, even as from a well ; and a "small slip of lawn"' might easily have existed there in his time. I cannot be confident of the locality, however. Dr. Cradock writes: "As to Mary Hutchinson's pool, I think that it was not on the beck anywhere, but some detached little pool, far up the hill, to the eastwards of the Hall, in 'the woods.' The description does not well suit any part of Rydal beck ; no spot thereon could long ' remain unknown,' as the brook was until lately much haunted by anglers." My difficulty as to a site " far up the hill " is that it must have been a pool of some size, if " both flocks and herds might drink" all round it ; and there is no stream, scarce even a rill, that joins Rydal beck on the right, all the way up from its junction with the Rothay. Mr. Hull writes from Rydal Cottage : " Although closely acquainted with every nook about Rydal Park, I have never been able to discover any spot corre- sponding to that described in Wordsworth's lines to M. H. It is possible, however, that the 'small bed of water' may have been a temporary rain pool, such as sometimes lodges in the hollows on the mountain-slope after heavy rain." Mr. F. M. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 7 1 Jones, the agent of the Rydal property, Avrites : " I do not know of any pool of water in the upper Rydal Park. There are some pools up the river, 'Mirror Pool' among them; but I hardly think there can ever have been ' beech trees ' growing near them." There are many difficulties ; and the place may now be past identification. Possibly Wordsworth's wish may be fulfilled — The travellers know it not, and 'twill remain Unknown to them. (See Preface, p. vi. etc.) The sixth poem is perhaps the most distinctive in the series — When, to the attractions of the busy world Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen A habitation in this peaceful Vale, Sharp season followed of continual storm In deepest winter; and, from week to week. Pathway, and lane, and public road, were clogged With frequent showers of snow. Upon a hill At a short distance from my cottage, stands A stately fir-grove, whither I was wont To hasten, for I found, beneath the roof Of that perennial shade, a cloistral place Of refuge, with an unincumbered floor. Here, in safe covert, on the shallow snow. And, sometimes, on a speck of visible earth, The redbreast near nie hopped ; nor was I loth To sympathise with vulgar coppice birds. That, for protection from the nipping blast. Hither repaired. A single beech-tree grew Within this grove of firs I and, on the fork Of that one beech, appeared a thrush's nest ; A last year's nest, conspicuously built At such small elevation from the ground As gave sure sign that they, who in that house 72 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Of Nature and of love had made their home Amid the fir-trees, all the summer long Dwelt in a tranquil spot. And oftentimes, A few sheep, stragglers from some mountain-flock, Would watch my motions with suspicious stare, From the remotest outskirts of the grove,— Some nook where they had made their final stand, Huddling together from two fears — the fear Of me and of the storm. Full many an hour Here did I lose. But in this grove the trees Had been so thickly planted, and had thriven In such perplexed and intricate array, That vainly did I seek beneath their stems A length of open space, where to and fro My feet might move without concern or care ; And, baffled thus, though earth from day to day Was fettered, and the air by storm disturbed, I ceased the shelter to frequent, — and prized, Less than I wished to prize, that calm recess. The snows dissolved, and genial Spring returned To clothe the fields with verdure. Other haunts Meanwhile were mine ; till, one bright April day, By chance retiring from the glare of noon To this forsaken covert, there I found A hoary pathway traced between the trees. And winding on with such an easy line Along a natural opening, that I stood Much wondering how I could have sought in vain For what was now so obvious. To abide, For an allotted interval of ease. Under my cottage-roof, had gladly come From the wild sea a cherished V^isitant; And with the sight of this same path — begun, Begun and ended, in the shady grove, Pleasant conviction flashed upon my mind That, to this opportune recess allured, He had surveyed it with a finer eye. AS INTERPRETED V.Y WORDSWORTH. y;^ A heart more wakeful ; and had worn the track By pacing here, unwearied and alone, In that habitual restlessness of foot. That haunts the Sailor measuring o'er and o'er His short domain upon the vessel's deck, While she pursues her course through the dreary sea. When thou hadst quitted Esthwaite's pleasant shore. And taken thy first leave of those green hills And rocks that were the play-ground of thy youth, Year followed year, my Brother 1 and we two. Conversing not, knew little in what mould Each other's mind was fashioned ; and at length When once again we met in Grasmere Vale, Between us there was little other bond Than common feelings of fraternal love. But thou, a School-boy, to the sea hadst carried Undying recollections; Nature there Was with thee ; she, who loved us both, she still Was with thee ; and even so didst thou become A silent Poet ; from the solitude Of the vast sea didst bring a watchful heart Still couchant, an inevitable ear. And an eye practised like a blind man's touch. — Back to the joyless Ocean thou art gone ; Nor from this vestige of thy musing hours Could I withhold thy honoured name, — and now I love the fir-gro^'e with a perfect love. Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns Shine hot, or wind blows troublesome and strong : And there I sit at evening, when the steep Of Silver-how, and Grasmere's peaceful lake, And one green island, gleam between the stems Of the dark firs, a visionary scene ! And, while I gaze upon the spectacle Of clouded splendour, on this dream-like sight 74 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Of solemn loveliness, I think on thee, My Brother, and on all which thou hast lost. Nor seldom, if I rightly guess, while Thou, Muttering the verses which I muttered first Among the mountains, through the midnight watch Art pacing thoughtfully the vessel's deck In some far region, here, while o'er my head. At every impulse of the moving breeze, The fir-grove murmurs with a sea-like sound, Alone I tread this path ; — for aught I know, Timing my steps to thine : and, with a store Of undistinguishable sympathies. Mingling most earnest wishes for the day When we, and others whom we love, shall meet A second time, in Grasmere's happy Vale. This fir-grove is between the Wishing-gate and White Moss Common, and almost exactly opposite the former. Follow the old road from Grasmere to Rydal to the point where the paths diverge, one leading up to the common, the other to the Gate ; take the latter a short way, and turn to the left by the first path leading along the hillside by a wall, and the "fir-grove" will be seen on the right ; or, standing at the Wishing-gate and looking eastward, the grove is to the left, not forty yards from the gate. Some of the firs (Scotch) are still there, and several beech-trees, not "a single beech-tree" as in the poem. Dr. Cradock assures me that Wordsworth pointed out the special beech- tree, in which was the thrush's nest, "to Miss Cookson, a few days before Dora V/ords worth's death. The wall was in a ruined plight, and the party scrambled through it. The tree is near the upper wall, and from its shape tells its own tale." "The plantation," Wordsworth remarks in his note on this poem, "has been walled in, and is not so AS INTERPRETED 15Y WORDSWORTH. 75 accessible as when my brother John wore the path in the manner here described. The grove was a favourite haunt with us all, while we lived at Town End"i (I. F. -MS.) They used to call it John's Grove. It can be easily entered by a gate, about a hundred yards beyond the Wishing-gate as one goes towards Rydal. The view from it, so exquisitely described in the poem, is much interfered with by larch plantations immeciiately below the firs. In the absence of definite testimony, I would have supposed that the path which his brother trod faced Silver-how, and the island of Grasmere ; and that the beech-tree was nearer the lower than the upper wall, just above a cup-shaped depression in the ground. But Miss Cookson's statement is explicit. Only fifteen firs survive at this part of the grove, which is open and desolate. Dr. Cradock remarks : "As to there being more than one beech, Wordsworth would not have hesitated to sacrifice servile exactness to poetical effect. He had a fancy for 'one.' ' Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.' ''Ojie abode, no more.' Grasmere's one green island,' 'one green field.' And again, the cattle, 'forty feeding like one.'" The following is the last of the Poems on the Nami7ig of Places : — Forth from a jutting ridge, around whose base Winds our deep Vale, two heath-clad Rocks ascend In fellowship, the loftiest of the pair Rising to no ambitious height ; yet both, O'er lake and stream, mountain and flowery mead. Unfolding prospects fair as human eyes ^ Prose IVoi'ks^ vol. ill. p. 30. 76 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Ever beheld. Up-led with mutual help, To one or other brow of those twin Peaks Were two adventurous Sisters wont to climb, And took no note of the hour while thence they gazed, The blooming heath their couch, gazed, side by side. In speechless admiratior}. I, a witness And frequent sharer of their calm delight With thankful heart, to either Eminence Gave the baptismal name each Sister bore. Now are they parted, far as Death's cold hand Hath power to part the Spirits of those who love As they did love. Ye kindred Pinnacles — That, while the generations of mankind Follow each other to their hiding-place In Time's abyss, are privileged to endure Beautiful in yourselves, and richly graced With like command of beauty — grant your aid For Mary's humble, Sarah's silent, claim, That their pure joy in Nature may survive From age to age in blended memory. These two rocks are near the "fir-grove," and are easily identified. They are "heath-clad" still. They rise out of what is sometimes called the Bane Riggs Wood ; so named, I understand, because the shortest road from Ambleside to Grasmere passes through it ; "bane" or "bain" signifying, in the Westmoreland dialect, a short cut. Dr. Cradock says : " They are difficult of approach, being enclosed in a wood, with dense undergrowth, and surrounded by a high well-built wall. They can be well seen from the lower highroad, from a spot close to the three-mile stone from Ambleside. They are some fifty or sixty feet above the road, about twenty yards apart, and separated by a slight depression of say ten feet. The view from AS INTERPRETED P>V WORDSWORTH. 77 the easterly one is now much preferable, as it is less encumbered with shrubs ; and, for that reason also, is more heath-clad. The twin rocks are also well seen, though at a further distance, from the hill on White Moss Common, between the roads 'Old Corruption' and 'Bit-by-bit Reform.' Doubtless the rocks were far more easily ap- proached fifty years ago, when walls, if any, were low and ill-built. It is probable, however, that even then they were enclosed and protected ; — for heath will not grow on the Grasmere hills in places much frequented by sheep." From the lower carriage road — Dr. Arnold's " Radical Reform" — they are best seen at a point two or three yards to the west of a large rock on the roadside near the milestone. The view of them from Loughrigg Terrace is also interesting. In July 1806 Wordsworth wrote the following To the Evening Star over Grasmere Water. The Lake is thine ; The mountains too are thine; some clouds there are. Some little feeble stars, but all is thine ; Thou, thou art king, and sole proprietor. In the same MS. paper the following jottings occur : — A moon among her stars, a mighty vale. Fresh as the freshest field, scooped out, and green As is the greenest billow of the sea. Again — The multitude of little rocky hills Rocky or green, that do like islands rise From the flat meadow lonely there. The poems on T/ie Wishing-gate and The 78 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Wishi7ig-gate Destroyed^ are too \\^\ known to be quoted in full. But the opening stanzas of the first poem, with Wordsworth's prefatory note, are as follows : — In the vale of Giasmere, by the side of the old highway leading to Ambleside, is a gate, which, time out of mind, has been called the Wishing-gate, from a belief that wishes formed or indulged there have a favourable Hope rules a land for ever green : All powers that serve the bright-eyed Queen Are confident and gay ; Clouds at her bidding disappear; Points she to aught ?— the bliss draws near, And fancy smoothes the way. Not such the land of Wishes — there Dwell fruitless day-dreams, lawless prayer. And thoughts with things at strife ; Yet how forlorn, should ye depart. Ye superstitions of the hearty How poor, were human life ! When magic lore abjured its might, Ye did not forfeit one dear right. One tender claim abate ; Witness this symbol of your sway, Surviving near the public way, The rustic Wishing-gate ! Inquire not if the faery race Shed kindly influence on the place. Ere northward they retired ; If here a warrior left a spell. Panting for glory as he fell ; Or here a saint expired. AS INTERPRETED T.Y WORDSWORTH. 79 Enough that all around is fair Composed with Nature's finest care, And in her fondest love — Peace to embosom and content — To overawe the turbulent, The selfish to reprove. Yea: Reclining on this moss-grown bar, Unknowing, and unknown. The infection of the ground partakes, Longing for his Beloved — who makes All happiness her own. The second poem begins thus : — 'Tis gone — with old belief and dream That round it clung, and tempting scheme Released from fear and doubt ; And the bright landscape too must lie, By this blank wall, from every eye, Relentlessly shut out. Bear witness ye who seldom passed That opening — but a look ye cast Upon the lake below. What spirit-stirring power it gained From faith which here was entertained, Though reason might say no. Blest is that ground, where, o'er the springs Of history. Glory claps her wings, Fame sheds the exulting tear ; Yet earth is wide, and many a nook Unheard of is, like this, a book For modest meanings dear. 8o THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT It was in sooth a happy thought That grafted, on so fair a spot, So confident a token Of coming good ; — the charm is fled ; Indulgent centuries spun a thread, Which one harsh day has broken. A gate, though not the " moss-grown bar " of Wordsworth's time, still stands at the old place, where he tells us one had stood " time out of mind." Long may it stand, defying wind and weather. The poem which follows this one, in the series entitled Poems of the Imagination^ is so charac- teristic that I insert it in full. It is called The Priinrose of the Rock. " This Rock," says Words- worth, " stands on the right hand, a little way leading up the vale from Rydal to Grasmere " (I. F. MS.). " We have been in the habit of calling it the Glow-worm Rock, from the number of glow- worms we have often seen hanging on it as described. The tuft of primroses has, I fear, been washed away by heavy rains." A Rock there is whose homely front The passing traveller slights : Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps. Like stars at various heights ; ^ And one coy Primrose to that Rock The vernal breeze invites. What hideous warfare hath been waged. What kingdoms overthrown. Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft And marked it for my own ; A lasting link in Nature's chain From highest heaven let down 1 ^Compare the reference to the glow-worms in the second stanza of The Waggoner. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 8 1 The flowers, still faithful to the stems, Their fellowship renew ; The stems are faithful to the root, That worketh out of view : And to the rock the root adheres In every fibre true. Close clings to earth the living rock. Though threatening still to fall ; The earth is constant to her sphere : And God upholds them all : So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads Her annual funeral. Here closed the meditative strain ; But air breathed soft that day, The hoary mountain-heights v,ere cheered, The sunny vale looked gay ; And to the Primrose of the Rock I gave this after-lay. I sang — Let myriads of bright flowers, Like Thee — in field and grove Revive unenvied : — mightier far. Than tremblings that reprove Our vernal tendencies to hope, Is God's redeeming love: That love which changed — for wan disease, For sorrow that had bent O'er hopeless dust, for withered age — Their moral element, And turned the thistles of a curse To types beneficent. H 82 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Sin-blighted though we are, we too, The reasoning Sons of Men, From one obHvious winter called Shall rise, and breathe again ; And in eternal summer lose Our threescore years and ten. To humbleness of heart descends This prescience from on high, The faith that elevates the just. Before and when they die ; And makes each soul a separate heaven, A court for Deity. The primrose has disappeared, and the glow- Avorms have, since i860, deserted the place, but the rock is unmistakable ; and it is one of the most interesting of the verifiable reminiscences of Wordsworth. The poem is perhaps the most profoundly imaginative in the series. The poem, which was known in the Wordsworth household as The Glow-worm^ which refers to his sister, and was written in 1802, but only published in the 1807 edition of the poems, should here find a place. It was often repeated aloud in the Grasmere orchard, although composed near Barnard Castle. Among all lovely things my Love had been ; Had noted well the stars ; all flowers that grew About her home ; but she had never seen A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew. While riding near her home one starry night, A single glow-worm did I chance to espy: I gave a fervent welcome to the sight, And from my horse I leapt, great joy had I. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 83 Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay, To bear it with me through the starry night : And, as before, it shone without dismay ; Albeit putting forth a fainter light. When to the dwelling of my Love I came, I went into the orchard quietly ; And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name. Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree. The whole next day I hoped, and hoped with fear ; At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree: I led my Lucy to the spot, " Look here I " Oh ! joy it was for her, and joy for me ! An interesting parallel and contrast may be traced between Wordsworth's primrose, which bloomed, and did not dread " her annual funeral," and Keble's reference to the "decaying life" of Nature, and the " vernal raptures " of the coming year, in his hymn for the Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity. It was at the quarry, hard by "the primrose rock," that Wordsworth met The Beggars^ on whom he wrote two poems ; in the second of which (composed many years afterwards) the following lines occur : — They met me in a genial hour, When universal nature breathed As with the breath of one sweet flower, — A time to overrule the power Of discontent, and check the birth Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife. The most familiar bane of life Since parting Innocence bequeathed Mortality to Earth ! Soft clouds, the whitest of the year, 84 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Sailed through the sky — the brooks ran clear ; The lambs from rock to rock were bounding ; With songs the budded groves resounding ; And to my heart are still endeared The thoughts with which it then was cheered. Returning from Rydal Lake to Grasmere by either road, almost every turn brings up some fresh suggestion of the poet. It was near the Wishing-gate that he met The Sailor's Mother. Majestic in her person, tall and straight ; And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait. The ancient spirit is not dead; Old times, thought I, are breathing there; Proud was I that my country bred Such strength, a dignity so fair : She begged an alms, like one in poor estate. The Vale of Grasmere is, as Ue Quincey remarked, " solitary, yet sowed, as it were, with a thin diffusion of humble dwellings — here a scattering, and there a clustering, as in the starry heavens." ^ A few hundred yards from Dove cottage Wordsworth met the old leech-gatherer, immortalised in the poem Resolution and Independence. The " pool bare to the eye of heaven," on the margin of which Motionless as a cloud the old man stood. That heareth not the loud winds when they call, And moveth altogether if it move at all, must have been the pool on White Moss Common. On the way down from this pool to the side of the ^ Recollections of the Lakes, p. 124. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 85 lake, there used to be a grove on its north-eastern margin — in great measure destroyed by the new highroad along the side of the water — in which Wordsworth composed two poems, The Brothers and Michael. The character of Leonard in the former poem is in large part dra^^ n from that of his brother John (\\ho also supplied him with some material for The Chaj-acter of the Happy Warrior). The story arose out of a fact mentioned to him at Ennerdale, that a shepherd had fallen asleep at the top of TJie Pillar., and perished by falling over the rock. I \\\\\ relate a tale for those who love ,To lie beside the lonely mountain brooks, And hear the voices of the winds and flowers. It befell. At the first falling of the autumnal snows. Old Michael and his son one day went forth In search of a stray sheep. It was the time When from the heights our shepherds drive their flocks To gather all their mountain family Into the homestalls, ere they send them back There to defend themselves the winter long. Old Michael for this purpose had driven down His flock into the vale, but as it chanced, A single sheep was wanting. They had sought The straggler during all the previous day All over their own pastures, and beyond. And now at sunrise, sallying forth again, Far did they go that morning : with their search Beginning towards the south, where from Dove Crag (111 home for bird so gentle), they looked down On Deep-dale-head, and Brother's Water (named From those two Brothers that were drowned therein) : 86 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Thence northward did they pass by Arthur's seat, And Fairfield's highest summit, on the right Leaving St. Sunday's Crag, to Grisdale tarn They shot, and over that cloud-loving hill, Scat-Sandal, a fond lover of the clouds ; Thence up Helvellyn, a superior mount, With prospect underneath of striding edge, And Grisdale's houseless vale, along the brink Of Sheep-cot-cove, and those two other coves. Huge skeletons of crags which from the coast Of old Helvellyn spread their arms abroad And make a stormy harbour for the winds. Far went these shepherds in their devious quest, From mountain ridges peeping as they passed Down into every nook ; . . . . and many a sheep On height or bottom^ did they see, in flocks Or single. And although it needs must seem Hard to believe, yet could they well discern, Even at the utmost distance of two miles, (Such strength of vision to the shepherd's eye Doth practice give), that neither in the flocks Nor in the single sheep was what they sought. So to Helvellyn's eastern side they went, Down looking on that hollow, where the pool Of Thirlmere flashes like a warrior's shield. His light high up among the gloomy rocks, With sight of now and then a straggling gleam On Armath's ^ pleasant fields. And now they came To that high spring which bears no human name, As one unknown by others, aptly called The Fountain of the Mists. The father stooped To drink of the clear water, laid himself Flat on the ground, even as a boy might do, To drink of the cold well. When in like sort ^ Bottom is a common Cnmliiian word for valley. - Armboth, on the western side of Thirlmere. AS INTERPRETED P.V WORDSWORTH. 87 His son had drunk, the old man said to him That now he might l^e proud, for he that day Had slaked his thirst out of a famous well. The highest fountain known on British land. Thence, journeying on a second time, the)- passed Those small flat stones, which, ranged by traveller's hands In cyphers on Helvellyn's highest ridge, Lie loose on the bare turf, some half o'ergrown By the grey moss, but not a single stone Unsettled by a wanton blow from foot Of shepherd, man or boy. They have respect For strangers who have travelled far, perhaps ; For men who in such places, feeling there The grandeur of the earth, have left inscribed Their epitaph, which rain and snow And the strong wind have reverenced. Though often thus industriously they passed Whole hours with but small interchange of speech, Yet were there times in which they did not want Discourse both wise and pleasant, shrewd remarks Of moral prudence, clothed in images Lively and beautiful, in rural forms. That made their conversation fresh and fair As is a landscape ; and the shepherd oft Would draw out of his heart the mysteries And admirations that were there, of God And of His works : or, yielding to the bent Of his peculiar humour, would let loose His tongue, and give it the wind's freedom ; then, Discoursing in remote imaginations, strong Conceits, devices, plans, and schemes, Of alterations human hands might make Among the mountains, fens which might be drained, Mines opened, forests planted, and rocks split, The fancies of a solitary man. 88 THE enCtLish lake district Of Michael^ Wordsworth said to Miss Fenwick, '' The sheepfold remains, or rather the ruins of it. The character and circumstances of Luke were taken from a family to whom had belonged, many years before, the house we li\'cd in at Town-End. The name of the Evening Star was not given to this house, but to another on the same side of the valley, more to the north" (I, F. MvS.).^ There is a sheepfold, when you first enter the common going up Green-head Ghyll, which is now "finished," and is used when required. There are remains of walling much higher up the Ghyll, but they are probably the work of miners who were engaged there. The poem begins thus — If from the public way you turn your step Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll You will suppose that with an upright path Your feet must struggle ; in such bold ascent The pastoral mountains front you, face to face. But, courage I for around that boisterous brook The mountains have all opened out themselves, And made a hidden valley of their own. No habitation can be seen ; but they Who journey thither find themselves alone With a few sheep, with rocks and stones, and kites That overhead are sailing in the sky. It is in truth an utter solitude ; Nor should I have made mention of this Dell But for one object which you might pass by, Might see and notice not. Beside the brook Appears a straggling heap of unhewn stones ; And to that simple object appertains A story — unenriched with strange events, ^ Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 27. AS INTERPRETED P.Y WORDSWORTH. 89 Yet not unfit, I deem, for the fireside, Or for the summer shade. It was the first Of those domestic tales that spake to me Of Shepherds, dwellers in the valleys, men Whom I already loved ; — not verily For their own sakes, but for the fields and hills Where was their occupation and abode. Upon the forest side in Grasmere Vale There dwelt a Shepherd, Michael was his name ; An old man, stout of heart, and strong- of limb. His bodily frame had been from youth to age Of an unusual strength : his mind was keen, Intense, and frugal, apt for all affairs. And in his shepherd's calling he was prompt And watchful more than ordinary men. Hence had he learned the meaning of all winds. Of blasts of every tone ; and, oftentimes. When others heeded not, he heard the South Make subterraneous music, like the noise Of bagpipers on distant Highland hills. The Shepherd at such warning, of his flock Bethought him, and he to himself would say, " The winds are now devising work for me I " And, truly, at all times, the storm, that drives The traveller to a shelter, summoned him Up to the mountains : he had been alone Amid the heart of many thousand mists. That came to him, and left him, on the heights. So lived he till his eightieth year was past. And grossly that man errs, who should suppose That the green valleys, and the streams and rocks, Were things indifferent to the Shepherd's thoughts Fields, where with cheerful spirits he had breathed The common air; hills, which with vigorous step He had so often climbed ; which had impressed So many incidents upon his mind Of hardship, skill or courage, joy or fear ; go THE ENCIJSH LAKE DISTRICT Which, like a book, preserved the memory Of the dumb animals whom he had saved, Had fed or sheltered, linking to such acts The certainty of honourable gain ; Those fields, those hills— what could they less? — had laid Strong hold on his affections, were to him A pleasurable feeling of blind love. The pleasure which there is in life itself. Michael's home is thus described — Their cottage on a plot of rising ground Stood single, with large prospect, north and south. High into Easdale, up to Dunmail-Raise, And westward to the village near the lake ; And from this constant light, so regular And so far seen, the House itself, by all Who dwelt within the limits of the vale. Both old and young, was named The Evening Star. This cottage was gone when the poem was written in 1800. It stood where the coach-house and stables of "The Hollins" now stand. It is easy for any one visiting Green-head Ghyll to realise Michael in his old age, as described in that most pathetic of poems. Among the rocks He went, and still looked up to sun and cloud. And listened to the wind ; and, as before, Performed all kinds of labour for his sheep. And for the land, his small inheritance. And to that hollow dell from time to time Did he repair, to build the Fold of which His flock had need. AS INTERPRETED RY WORDSWORTH. 9 1 Of his cottage it is said — The ploughshare has been through the ground On which it stood ; great changes have been wrought In all the neighbourhood : — yet the oak is left That grew beside their door; and the remains Of the unfinished Sheepfold may be seen Beside the boisterous brook of Green-head Ghyll. The cottage formerly inhabited by the Lewth- waites, the parents of Barbara Lewthwaite, whose name survives in connection with The Pet Lamb, is much altered and modernised, but it may still be seen on the high road immediately below "The Hollins." It is now called "The Grove," or "Grove Cottage." It appears from Wordsworth's note, however, that he borrowed nothing from Barbara except her name and her beauty, and the locality does not possess a high interest in con- nection with the poem. The island in Grasmere Lake is frequently referred to in the poems ; notably in the series of Inscriptions in the fifth volume. Number five in that series was " written with a pencil upon a stone in the wall of the house (an outhouse) on the island of Grasmere." Thou seest a homely Pile, yet to these w^alls The heifer comes in the snow-storm, and here The new-dropped lamb finds shelter from the wind. And hither does one Poet sometimes row His pinnace, a small vagrant barge, up-piled With plenteous store of heath and withered fern, (A lading which he wnth his sickle cuts Among the mountains) and beneath this roof He makes his summer couch, and here at noon Spreads out his limbs, while, yet unshorn, the Sheep, Panting beneath the burthen of their wool. 92 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Lie round him, even as if they were a part Of his own Household : nor, while from his bed He looks, through the open door- place, toward the lake And to the stirring breezes, does he want Creations lovely as the work of sleep — Fair sights and visions of romantic joy ! On the western shore of the lake, Wyke Cottage may be seen, where Sarah Mackereth lived — The Westmoreland Girl — nine years of age, who plunged into the torrent and rescued a lamb when it was being swept into the lake, child and lamb being carried together some distance by the flood, and who was the heroine of a poem written by Wordsworth for his grandchildren. She married a man named Davis, and settled at Broughton, in P^urness, where she died in 1872. The beck — Wyke Gill beck — is that which descends from the centre of Silver How. This picturesque cottage, with round chimney — a yew tree and Scotch fir behind it — is on the western side of the road which leads from Grasmere to Langdale by Red Bank. The Mackereths are a well-known W^estmoreland family. They belong to the " gentry of the soil," and have been parish clerks in Grasmere for generations. One of them was the tenant of the Swan Inn, referred to in The Waggoner^ the "host" who painted, with his own hand,' "the famous swan" used as a sign. They have been in the district, I am informed, for several hundred years. Allan Bank, the house in which Wordsworth lived for nearly four years — from the spring of 1807, when he left Dove Cottage, till the spring of 181 1, when he removed to the parsonage at Grasmere — is chiefly interesting as the place where most of The Excmsion was composed. The house has been much altered and added to since AS INTIlRPRETED by WORDSWORTH. 93 the poet's time. He was its first occupant. The grounds command fine views of Loughrigg and Silver How, with the lake below, as well as of the valley northwards towards Dunmail-Raise ; but somehow Allan Bank is not associated with Wordsworth, as Hawkhead, Dove Cottage, and Rydal are. He has written nothing which leads us to think of it as in any way interesting to himself. Loughrigg Tarn, on the southern slope of Loughrigg Fell, is described in Wordsworth's Book on the Lakes, and also in his Epistle to Sir Gco7'ge Beaumont, written in the year 181 1, which records the first part of a journey taken by the poet's household from Grasmere to Bootle by the Sea for the benefit of the children ; a composition which Wordsworth thought very little of. He never sent it to Sir George, ranking it in merit along with his tragedy of The Borderers. Some portions of it, however, have a topographical interest. . From our own dear Vale we pass And soon approach Diana's Looking-glass ! To Loughrigg-tarn, round clear and bright as heaven. Such name Italian fancy would have given. Ere on its banks the few grey cabins rose That yet disturb not its concealed repose More than the feeblest wind that idly blows. Ah, Beaumont I when an opening in the road Stopped me at once by charm of what it showed The encircling region vividly exprest Within the mirror's depth, a world at rest — Sky streaked with purple, grove and craggy bield, And the smooth green of many a pendent field. And, quieted and soothed, a torrent small, A little daring w^ould-be waterfall, One chimney smoking and its azure wreath. Associate all in the calm Pool beneath, 94 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT With here and there a faint imperfect gleam Of water-Hhes veiled in misty steam — What wonder at this hour of stillness deep, A shadowy link ^tween wakefulness and sleep, When Nature's self, amid such blending, seems To render visible her own soft dreams. If, mixed with what appeared of rock, lawn, wood, Fondly embosomed in the tranquil flood, A glimpse I caught of that Abode, by Thee Designed to rise in humble pri\'acy, A lowly Dwelling, here to be outspread, Like a small Hamlet, with its bashful head Half hid in native trees. Alas 'tis not, Nor ever was ; I sighed, and left the spot Unconscious of its own untoward lot. And thought in silence, with regret too keen. Of unexperienced joys that might have been ; Of neighbourhood and intermingling arts. And golden summer days uniting cheerful hearts. But time, irrevocable time, is flown, And let us utter thanks for blessings sown And reaped — what hath been, and what is, our own. The reference in the concluding lines is to Sir George Beaumont's purchase of the Tarn, with the view of building a residence there. What Words- worth says of the subsequent sale of this property may be quoted, because it led him to speak of the yew-trees in Grasmere, one of which now shelters his own grave. The extracts are taken from the I. F. MS. "The project of building was given up, Sir George retaining possession of the Tarn. Many years afterwards a Kendal tradesman, born upon its banks, applied to me for the purchase of it, and accordingly it was sold for the sum that had been given for it, and the money laid out, under my direction, upon a substantial oak fence for a certain number of yew-trees to be planted in Grasmere AS INTP:RPRETE1) by WORDSWORTH. 95 churchyard. Two were planted in each enclosure (and principally, if not entirely, by my own hand) with a view to remove, after a certain time, the one which throve the least. After several years, the stouter plant being left, the others were taken up and planted in other parts of the same churchyard, and were adequately fenced. The whole eight are now thriving, and are an ornament to a place which, during late years, has lost much of its rustic simplicity by the introduction of iron palisades to fence off family burying-grounds, and iDy numerous ornaments, some of them in very bad taste, from which this place of burial was in my memory quite free; see the lines in the sixth book of The Excursion beginning ' Green is the churchyard ' " ( I . F. MS.). '^ May the trees be taken care of hereafter, when we are all gone ; and some of them will, perhaps, at some far distant time, rival the majesty of the yew of Lorton, and those which I have described as growing at Borrowdale, where they are still to be seen in grand assemblage." ^ The note appended to the sequel of this poem, composed thirty years afterwards, is to the follow- ing effect : " Loughrigg Tarn, alluded to in the foregoing epistle, resembles, though much smaller in compass, the Lake Nemi, or Speculiun Dia?icB^ as it is often called, not only in its clear waters and circular form, and the beauty immediately sur- rounding it, but also as being overlooked by the eminence of Langdale Pikes, as Lake Nemi is by that of Monte Calvo. Since this epistle was written, Loughrigg Tarn has lost much of its beauty by the felling of many natural clumps of wood, relics of the old forest, particularly upon the farm called ' The Oaks,^ from the abundance of that tree ^ Memoirs, vol. i. p. 376 : also Prose WorJis, vol. iii. pp. 177, 202. 96 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT which grew there. It is to be regretted, upon public grounds, that Sir George Beaumont did not carry into effect his intention of constructing here a Summer Retreat, in the style I have described, as his taste would have set an example Jiow build- ings with all the acco)nmodatio7is modern society requires might be introduced even into the most secluded parts of the country without injuring their jtative character." There are few persons of or- dinarily cultivated taste will not share this regret, when they see the many modern erections at Gras- mere and Ambleside, which, by the hardness of their lines, and their general obtrusiveness, interfere with the seclusion of these places, and jar with the whole spirit of the district. In July 1844, Wordsworth walked round by Rydal and Grasmere to Loughrigg Tarn with Sir William Rowan Hamilton, Charles Julius Hare, Archer Butler of Dublin, the Rev. Percival Graves, etc. Mr. Graves, now of Dublin, but then at Windermere, writes of it thus : " The day was memorable as giving birth to an interesting minor poem of Mr. Wordsworth's. When we reached the side of Loughrigg Tarn (which, you may remember, he notes for its similarity, in the peculiar character of its beauty, to the Lago di Nemi, Diana; Speculum)., the loveliness of the scene arrested our steps and fixed our gaze. The splendour of a July noon surrounded us and lit up the landscape, with the Langdale Pikes soaring above, and the bright Tarn shining beneath ; and when the poet's eyes were satisfied with their feast on the beauties familiar to them, they sought relief in the search, to them a happy vital habit, for new beauty in the flower- enamelled turf at his feet. There his attention was arrested by a fair smooth stone, of the size of an ostrich's egg, seeming to imbed at its centre, and at the same time to display a dark, star-shaped AS INTERPRETED nV WORDSWORTH. 97 fossil of most distinct outline. Upon closer inspec- tion, this proved to be the shadow of a daisy projected upon it with extraordinary precision by the intense light of an almost vertical sun. The poet drew the attention of the rest of the party to the minute but beautiful phenomenon, and gave expres- sion at the time to thoughts suggested by it, which so interested our friend, Professor Butler, that he plucked the tiny flower, and saying that ' it should be not only the theme but the memorial of the thought they had heard,' bestowed it somewhere carefully for preservation." The little poem, in which some of these thoughts were crystallized, is as follows — So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive : Would that the little flowers were born to live Conscious of half the pleasure which they give ; That to this mountain-daisy's self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone ! And what if hence a bold desire should mount High as the Sun, that he could take account Of all that issues from his glorious fount ! So might he ken how by his sovereign aid These delicate companionships are made ; And how he rules the pomp of light and shade ; And were the sister-power that shines by night So privileged, what a countenance of delight Would through the clouds break forth on human sight ! Fond fancies ! wheresoe'er shall turn thine eye On earth, air, ocean, or the starry sky. Converse with Nature in pure sympathy; All vain desires, all lawless wishes quelled Be thou to love and praise alike impelled, Whatever boon is granted or withheld. I 98 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT The reference to the yew-trees leads us naturally back to Grasmere and its churchyard. The " Church " in The Excursion^ Wordsworth himself tells us, is that of Grasmere. Several of its features are, however, taken from other places, such as Bowness, and (perhaps ?) Hawkshead. The " Churchyard among the Mountains" is mainly that of Grasmere, though some of the gra\es described are elsewhere — e.g.^ that of the " gentle dalesman," who was deaf. He grew up From year to year in loneliness of soul, And this deep mountain-valley was to him Soundless, with all its streams. His grave is in the churchyard at Hawes Water. In his account of the scenes and characters in The Excursion (see Fenwick MS.), Wordsworth refers to the house at Hackett, which he imagin- atively converted into the parsonage, and proceeds : " At the same time, and as by the waving of a magic wand, I turn the comparatively confined vale of Langdale into the stately and comparatively spacious vale of Grasmere, and its ancient parish church."^ — So we descend : and winding round a rock Attain a point that showed the valley — stretched In length before us ; and, not distant far, Upon a rising-ground a grey church tower. Whose battlements were screened by tufted trees. And towards a crystal Mere, that lay beyond Among steep hills and woods embosomed, flowed A copious stream with boldly-winding course; Here traceable, there hidden — there again To sight restored, and glittering in the sun. ^ Prose Jf^or/cs, vol. iii. p. 199. (university) AS INTERPRETED BY WOia)SWrJSTH. 99 On the stream's bank, and everywhere appeared Fair dweUings, single, or in social knots ; Some scattered o'er the level, others perched On the hill sides, a cheerful, quiet scene, Now in its morning purity arrayed.^ " The interior of the church has been improved lately by underdrawing the roof and raising the floor ; but the rude and antique majesty of its former appearance has been impaired by painting the rafters ; and the oak benches, with a simple rail at the back dividing them from each other, have given way to seats that have more the appear- ance of pews." - Oft pausing, we pursued our way ; Nor reached the village churchyard till the sun. Travelling at steadier pace than ours, had risen Above the summits of the highest hills, And round our path darted oppressive beams. As chanced, the portals of the sacred Pile Stood open ; and we entered. On my frame. At such transition from the fervid air, A grateful coolness fell, that seemed to strike The heart, in concert with that temperate awe And natural reverence with the place inspired. Not raised in nice proportions was the pile. But large and massy ; for duration built ; With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld By naked rafters intricately crossed. Like leafless underboughs, in some thick wood, All withered by the depth of shade above. ^ Excursion, book v. - P7-ose Works, vol. iii. p. 201 lOO THK ENGT.ISH LAKE DISTRICT Admonitory texts inscribed the walls, Each in its ornamental scroll inclosed ; Each also crowned with winged heads — a pair Of rudely-painted Cherubim. The floor Of nave and aisle, in unpretending guise. Was occupied by oaken benches ranged In seemly rows ; the chancel only showed Some vain distinctions, marks of earthly state By immemorial privilege allowed ; Though with the Encincture's special sanctity But ill according. An heraldic shield. Varying its tincture with the changeful light, Imbued the altar-window; fixed aloft A faded hatchment hung, and one by time Yet undiscoloured. A capacious pew Of sculptured oak stood here, with drapery lined ; And marble monuments were here displayed Thronging the walls ; and on the floor beneath Sepulchral stones appeared, with emblems graven And foot-worn epitaphs.^ All these are in Grasmere church as described, the " naked rafters intricately crossed," the " admoni- tory texts " " each in its ornamental scroll en- closed," the " oaken benches," the " heraldic shield " in the " altar window," the " faded hatchment," the " marble monuments," and " sepulchral stones, with foot-worn epitaphs." The Wanderer, the Solitary, and Wordsworth withdraw from the church to a spot Where sun and shade were intermixed ; for there A broad oak, stretching forth its leafy arms From an adjoining pasture, overhung ^ Excursion, book v. Poetical JFor/cs, vol. v. p. 142. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. lOI Small space of that <^reen churchyard \v'ith ? light And pleasant awning. On the mdss-grcwn vail My ancient Friend and I together took Our seats. ^ An oak now grows in the field, a little to the east of the churchyard wall, which cannot, however, be that to which Wordsworth refers. Probably an oak then grew beside the wall above the Rothay. While the three are seated together on that wall, the village pastor is represented as joining them. The character of the pastor is gathered, Words- worth tells us, from that of several individuals : notably from the Rev. Mr. Walker of Seathwaite, " the wonderful Walker." The dramatic structure of The Excursion is so defective, that it is extremely difficult to follow the changes of place ; and, for the main purpose which Wordsworth had in view, this is unnecessary. Nevertheless, there is more order in the develop- ment of the narrative than is sometimes supposed. The group of meditative talkers are first supposed to be seated on the moss-grown wall to the east of the churchyard, facing Silver How. This I infer from the reference to Wray Ghyll beck {infra^ p. 103), and from the way in which the pastor describes the graves in the churchyard if seen in April, after snow had fallen, and if approached from the north. I quote this passage, though it is more prosaic than the rest, as a clue to the identi- fication of places : — Human life Is either fair and tempting, a soft scene Grateful to sight, refreshing to the soul, Or a forbidden track of cheerless view, ^ Excursion^ book v. I02 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Jvven as. the same is looked at, or approached. Thus, wher in changeful April fields are white With new-fallen snow, if from the sullen north Yoi/r. walk conduct you hither, ere the sun Haih gained his noontide height, this church- yard, filled With mounds transversely lying side by side From east to west, before you will appear An unillumined, blank, and dreary plain, With more than wintry cheerlessness and gloom Saddening the heart. Go forward, and look back ; Look, from the quarter whence the lord of light, Of life, of love, and gladness doth dispense His beams; which, unexcluded in their fall, Upon the southern side of every grave Have gently exercised a melting power; Then will a vernal prospect greet your eye. All fresh and beautiful, and green and bright, , Hopeful and cheerful : — vanished is the pall That overspread and chilled the sacred turf, Vanished or hidden ; and the whole domain, To some, too lightly minded, might appear A meadow carpet for the dancing hours. ^ From the next quotation it will be seen that Wordsworth's description of the place is wonder- fully true to Grasmere and its surroundings. Thus the pastor is represented as saying to the group seated on the wall — You behold. High on the breast of yon dark mountain, dark With stony barrenness, a shining speck Bright as a sunbeam sleeping till a shower Brush it away, or cloud pass over it ; And such it might be deemed — a sleeping sun- beam ; ^ Excursion, book v. p. 153. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I03 But 'tis a plot of cultivated ground, Cut off, an island in the dusky waste ; And that attractive brightness is its own. The lofty side, by Nature framed to tempt Amid a wilderness of rocks and stones The tiller's hand, a hermit might have chosen. For opportunity presented thence Far forth to send his wandering eye o'er land And ocean, and look down upon the works, The habitations, and the ways of men, Himself unseen I But no tradition tells That ever hermit dipped his maple dish In the sweet spring that lurks 'mid yon green fields ; And no such visionary views belong To those who occupy and till the ground. High on that mountain where they long have dwelt A wedded pair in childless solitude. A house of stones collected on the spot, By rude hands built, with rocky knolls in front. Backed also by a ledge of rock, whose crest Of birch trees waves over the chimney top.^ The mountain is Lingmoor, and Hackett may be the house described ; although it is impossible to say where was the " house of stones collected on the spot," or " the spring," or the shining plot of cultivated ground, " the sleeping sunbeam." They may have been real, or they may have been merely ideal creations. The I. F. notes contain no hint. But one of the next references to locality occurring in The Excursion is an unmistakable allusion to the Wray Ghyll Force, which descends between Silver How and Easdale — ^ Excursion^ book v. I04 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT The soft voice Of yon white torrent falHng down the rock, Speaks less distinctly to the same effect.^ No other white torrent falling down rocks is visible from the churchyard of Grasmere. This one is distinctly seen when looking towards Silver How to the west. The group who carry on high argument on the deep questions raised in The Excursion^ are after- wards supposed to leave the " moss-grown-wall — The vicar paused, and toward a seat advanced, A long stone seat, fixed in the churchyard wall ; Part shaded by cool sycamore, and part Offering a sunny resting place. . . . Beneath the shade we all sat down.^ . . . This " long stone seat " was fixed to the wall on the left of the south entrance-gate into the church- yard ; and not, as might be supposed, on the opposite wall, which runs down from the poet's grave towards the bridge. The wall was rebuilt, and the stone seat omitted from it by the late rector. Of the " decorated pillar," with the " dial," in the churchyard, mentioned in the same book,^ there is no trace or tradition at Grasmere. There is, how- ever, a pillar in Bowness churchyard on which a dial used to stand. The clergyman described in the seventh book is the Rev. Joseph Sympson of Wytheburn, whose household were for many years the principal asso- ciates of the Wordsworth family in Grasmere. The I. F. MS. tell us that all that is said of them in the ' Exclusion, hook vi. - Ibid, liook vi. " Ibid, book vi. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 105 poem is "as faithful to the truth as words can make it." ^ The vicar is addressing the others in the group, and he says — — Once more look forth, and follow with your sight The length of road that from yon mountain's base Through bare enclosures stretches, 'till its line Is lost within a little tuft of trees ; Then, reappearing in a moment, quits The cultured fields : and up the heathy waste, Mounts, as you see, in mazes serpentine, Led towards an easy outlet of the vale. That little shady spot, that sylvan tuft. By which the road is hidden, also hides A cottage from our view ; though I discern (Ye scarcely can) amid its sheltering trees The smokeless chimney-top.— All unembowered And naked stood that lowly Parsonage (For such in truth it is, and appertains To a small Chapel in the vale beyond) When hither came its last Inhabitant. Rough and forbidding were the choicest roads By which our northern wilds could then be crossed : And into most of these secluded vales Was no access for wain, heavy or light.- The road " up the heathy waste," mounting " in mazes serpentine," is the Keswick road over Dun- mail-Raise, the " easy outlet of the vale." The cottage in which the parson of Wytheburn then lived still stands on the right or eastern side of the ^ Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 207. -Excursion, hook vii. Io6 THE ENGLISH LAKE DIS'JRICT road as you ascend the Raise, beyond the Swan Inn. It abuts on the public road about 300 yards beyond the bridge over Tongue Ghyll beck. Bleak and bare They found the cottage, their allotted home ; Naked without, and rude within ; a spot With which the Cure not long had been endowed ; And far remote the chapel stood, — remote, And, from his Dwelling, unapproachable. Save through a gap high in the hills, an opening Shadeless and shelterless, by driving showers Frequented, and beset with howling winds. ^ So days and years Passed on : — the inside of that rugged house Was trimmed and brightened by the Matron's care, And gradually enriched with things of price, Which might be lacked for use or ornament. What, though no soft and costly sofa there Insidiously stretched out its lazy length. And no vain mirror glittered upon the walls. Yet were the windows of the low abode By shutters weather-fended, which at once Repelled the storm and deadened its loud roar. There snow-white curt&ins hung in decent folds ; Tough moss, and long-enduring mountain plants That creep along the ground with sinuous trail. Were nicely braided ; and composed a work Like Indian mats, that with appropriate grace Lay at the threshold and the inner doors ; And a fair carpet, woven of homespun wool But tinctured daintily with florid hues, For seemliness and warmth, on festal days. Covered the smooth blue slabs of mountain stone With which the parlour-floor, in simplest guise Of pastoral homesteads, had been long inlaid.^ ^ Excursion^ book vii. - Ihid. vii. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH 107 The Pastor continues — When wishes, formed In youth, and sanctioned by the riper mind, Restored me to my native ^■alley, here To end my days ; well pleased was I to see The once-bare cottage, on the mountain-side, wScreen'd from assault of every bitter blast ; While the dark shadows of the summer leaves Danced in the breeze, chequering its mossy roof Our very first in eminence of years This old IVIan stood, the patriarch of the Vale ! And, to his unmolested mansion, death Had never come, through space of forty years ; Sparing both old and young in that abode. Suddenly then they disappeared ; not twice Had summer scorched the fields ; nor twice had fallen. On those high peaks, the first autumnal snow. Before the greedy visiting was closed, And the long privileged house left empty — swept As by a plague. Yet no rapacious plague Had been among them; all was gentle death, One after one, with intervals of peace. A happy consummation ! an accord Sweet, perfect, to be wished for 1 save that here Was something which to mortal sense might sound Like harshness, — that the old grey-headed Sire, The oldest, he was taken last, survived When the meek Partner of his age, his Son, His Daughter, and that late and high-prized gift, His little smiling Grandchild, were no more. " All gone, all vanished ! he deprived and bare, How will he face the remnant of his life? What will become of him?" we said, and mused In sad conjectures—" Shall we meet him now Io8 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Haunting with rod and line the craggy brooks? Or shall we overhear him, as we pass, Striving to entertain the lonely hours With music !" (for he had not ceased to touch The harp or viol which himself had framed. For their sweet purposes, with perfect skill). "What titles will he keep? will he remain Musician, gardener, builder, mechanist, A planter, and a rearer from the seed? A man of hope and forward-looking mind Even to the last I" — Such was he, unsubdued. But Heaven was gracious ; yet a little while, And this Survivor, with his cheerful throng Of open projects, and his inward hoard Of unsunned griefs, too many and too keen, Was overcome by unexpected sleep. In one blest moment. Like a shadow thrown Softly and lightly from a passing cloud. Death fell upon him, while reclined he lay For noontide solace on the summer grass. The warm lap of his mother earth : and so. Their lenient term of separation past. That family (whose graves you there behold) By yet a higher privilege once more Were gathered to each other. ^ In 1807, in his ninety-second year, old Mr. Sympson was found dead in his garden on the opposite side of the road from the cottage, just as described above. There is now a new door into the garden, but the posts are old enough to have been there in Sympson's time. The house is one of the most easily identified of all the places mentioned in T/ie Exxursioii. The " blue slabs of mountain stone," which are common to all old houses in the vale, are there, just as they were while the old ^ Excursion, book vii. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I09 pastor lived, and Wordsworth was his frequent guest. The windows too "by shutters weather- fended," are described with curiously minute fidelity. The details as to the fiddle and the love of planting, which I have not quoted, are from life ; so are the references to the fruit trees in his garden, and to the interval between his wife's death and his own. She was twelve years his junior. She, far behind him in the vale of years, and she predeceased him by a year and a half. Not twice had summer, etc. I mention these details to show how faithful to fact Wordsworth usually was ; and to justify, to any who may think otherwise, the probability of equal faithfulness in his allusion to other things and places. The " little tuft of trees " (sycamores) still shelters the old dwelling on the north. Though no longer its parsonage, the house still belongs to Wytheburn church. The Sympsons are buried in Grasmere. Their gravestone stands about ten yards north-west from that of their poet, not far from the monument erected in memory of Arthur Hugh Clough. There is only one stone, a low one, with a pointed top. The following is the inscription on it : — " Here lie the remains of the Reverend Jos. Sympson, Minister of Wytheburn for more than 50 years. He died June 27, 1807, aged 92; also of Mary, his wife, who died Jan. 24, 1806, aged 81 ; also of Eliz. Jane, their youngest D*"-, who died Sep. 11, 1801, aged 37." Their graves are thus described — These grassy heaps lie amicably close, . . . Like surges heaving in the wind iro THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Along the surface of a mountain pool : Five graves, and only five, that rise together Unsociably sequestered, and encroaching On the smooth playground of the village school.^ For the same reason as that already mentioned, this very exact reference to the playground of the village school should be noted. It is described as "smooth" because it had no graves in it at that time. "The school," says Dr. Cradock, "was then and long afterwards held in the house abutting the Lich-gate, and the children had no playground except the churchyard. The portion of the ground nearest the school was not used for burial until the want of room made it necessary to ' encroach ' on it. The oldest tombstone bears the date 1777.'" Wordsworth thus describes the churchyard — - Green is the Churchyard, beautiful and green, Ridge rising gently by the side of ridge, A heaving surface, almost wholly free From interruption of sepulchral stones, And mantled o'er with aboriginal turf And everlasting flowers. These Dalesmen trust The lingering gleam of their departed lives To oral record, and the silent heart ; Depositories faithful and more kind Than fondest epitaph.^ That it was " almost wholly free from interruption of sepulchral stones," was literally true in Words- worth's time. Dr. Cradock says, " I cannot count more than two or three gravestones of earlier date than 1800. Most of the others are of a much more recent date." ^ Excursion, book vii. - Ibid, book vi. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I I I On the passage in Book VII. of The Excursio/i, beginning " Now from the living pass we once again," ^ he remarks— "This portion relates to the Greens, a very ancient Grasmere family, settled for generations at Pavement End, which, with a considerable tract of land, is still their property. The poet describes them as dwelling at Goldrill side, and I had been told that the name was a pure invention to avoid the realism of ' Grasmere ' or ' Pavement End.' Such, however, is not exactly the case. On inquiry from Mr. Fleming Green, one of the family, now residing elsewhere in Grasmere, I find that a small stream, to which Wordsworth himself, from some fancy of his own, had given the name of Goldrill, ran formerly by the roadside, and then turned by the side of the farm at Pavement End towards the lake. When the road was reconstructed the rill was covered, and can no more be seen there ; but it issues freely from a culvert at the back of the premises, and runs by the hedgeside to the lake. Mr. Fleming Green remembers the rill as it was, and pointed out its course to me. He is a son of one of the 'seven- lusty sons' mentioned in the poem. He said, 'We stuck to the old house till we could no longer stand up in it.' He is one of a race well termed 'lusty.' The 'hoary grandsire' and many of his descendants lie buried in a long row a little to the left of the path leading from the church to the lichgate at the north. Among them is little Margaret (her name and age not unrecorded), but her 'daisied hillock three spans long' is now ^ Excursion, book vii. - Mr. Fleming Green would read "six." 112 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT merged in the larger graves of her more aged kindred." In a corner of this churchyard Wordsworth himself is buried. One who visited the place in 1877 wrote: "To lie under the mound on which the shadow of that grey tower falls, seems scarcely like a banishment from life, only a deeper sleep, in a home quieter but not less lovely than those which surround the margin of the lake. Voices of children come up from the village street, with the hum of rustic life. From sunny heights the lowing of cattle is heard, and the bleat of the sheep that pasture on the hillsides. And by day and night unceasingly, the Rotha, hurrying past the church- yard wall, mingles the babble of its waters with the soft siisiirrics of the breeze, that plays among the sheltering sycamores and yews." — (M. C. T.) The daisy, of which he wrote so much, has its " place upon its poet's grave;" seeming there, if anywhere, to have a " function apostolical." Time may restore us in his course Goethe's sage mind, and Byron's force ; But when will Europe's latter hour Again find Wordsworth's healing power ? Keep fresh the grass upon his grave O Rotha, with thy living wave, Sing him thy best I for few or none Hear thy voice right, now he is gone.^ Matthew Arnold. William Wordsworth and Mary Hutchinson, Dorothy Wordsworth, their daughter Dora (Mrs. Quillinan), and their children who died in infancy, lie together under the shade of one of the yew-trees ^ Memorial Verses. Poems, vol. ii. p. 224. Ed. 1877. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I 13 which the poet planted. Earth contains few spots more peaceful or more sacred. It is a fitter resting- place for the dust of William Wordsworth, than a corner in Westminster Abbey would have been. There is another poem associated in a signifi- cant way with the vale of Grasmere. It is entitled (expressively, if cumbrously), Lines composed at G?'asniere o?ie euejujig^ after a stormy day^ the author having just read in a newspaper that the dissolution of Mr. Fox was hourly expected. Loud is the Vale I the Voice is up With which she speaks when storms are gone ; A mighty unison of streams ! Of all her Voices, One ! Loud is the Vale ; — this inland Depth In peace is roaring like the Sea ; Yon star upon the mountain-top Is listening quietly. A Power is passing from the earth To breathless Nature's dark abyss ; But when the great and good depart What is it more than this — ■ That Man, who is from God sent forth, Doth yet again to God return? — Such ebb and flow must ever be, Then wherefore should we mourn ? The southern side of Grasmere suggests the last book of TJce Excursion., entitled the " Discourse of the Wanderer, and an Evening Visit to the Lake." In K 114 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT the eighth book, entitled " The Parsonage," Words- worth leaves (irasmere, and imaginatively goes back to Langdale. He tells us, in the I. F. notes, that towards the head of Little Langdale " stands embowered, or partly shaded by yews and other trees, something between a cottage and a mansion or gentleman's house, such as they once were in this country. This I convert into the Parsonage . . . and upon the side of Loughrigg Fell, at the foot of Grasmere Lake, and looking down upon it and the whole Vale, with its accompanying moun- tains, the 'Pastor' is supposed by me to stand, when at sunset he addresses his companions."^ Again, " The point fixed in my imagination is half- way up the northern side of Loughrigg Fell."- Dr. Cradock says : " The lake is, of course, in the main, that of Grasmere, ' the grassy mountain's open side' being avowedly Loughrigg terrace. But, according to Wordsworth's habit, he has drawn his imagery from various other places — e.g., the island of Grasmere is not ' with birch trees fringed.' (This may well refer to Rydal.) Again, I know of no ' lilies of the vale ' at Grasmere, but they are found, I believe, on one of the islands of Windermere, certainly in woods near the river Leven, below that lake. Again, the vicar refers to ' two islands ' on the lake, Grasmere having only one. I never saw a goat ' browsing by dashing waterfalls,' still less ' spotted deer,' on or near Grasmere. The latter may be seen at Ullswater." It is impossible to trace an order in the com- binations, or to separate and detach the local elements combined, in the last book of The Excur- sion. The discourse is first carried on in the house of the vicar, the parsonage of Langdale ; and, though it is a momentary digression, I may remark that, "^ Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 199. - Ibid. p. 210. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. II5 in the noble passage in which Age is Hkened to " a final Eminence," the "high peaks that bound the vale where now we are," seem much more appro- priate to Langdale than to Grasmere. Rightly it is said That man descends into the Vale of years ; Yet have I thought that we might also speak, And not presumptuously, I trust, of Age, As of a final Eminence ; though bare In aspect and forbidding, yet a point On which 'tis not impossible to sit In awful sovereignty; a place of power, A throne, that may be likened unto his Who, in some placid day of summer, looks Down from a mountain-top, — say one of those High peaks that bound the Vale where now we are. Faint, and diminished to the gazing eye, Forest and field, and hill and dale appear. With all the shapes over their surface spread : But, while the gross and visible frame of things Relinquishes its hold upon the sense, Yea almost on the Mind herself, and seems All unsubstantialised, — how loud the voice Of waters, with invigorated peal From the full river in the vale below. Ascending I For on that superior height Who sits is disencumbered from the press Of near obstructions, and is privileged To breathe in solitude, above the host Of ever-humming insects, 'mid thin air That suits not them. The murmur of the leaves Many and idle, visits not his ear : This he is freed from, and from thousand notes I 1 6 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT (Not less unceasing, not less vain than these), By which the finer passages of sense Are occupied ; and the Soul, that would incline To listen, is prevented or deterred. ^ But after leaving the parsonage (whence they can see beyond "the silvery lake" '" streaked with placid blue," As if preparing for the peace of evening), they descend along a streamlet to a bridge where they see a ram reflected in the water ; then they go into a boat, and sail to " the rocky isle with birch trees fringed." This cannot be near Langdale, nor is it Grasmere. It might be Rydal, and all that follows would suit Rydal Mere, even to the " dash- ing waterfall " (with or without the " goats I") which might very well be a cascade on the beck that descends between Whitmoss Common and Nab Scar; and the party might ascend Loughrigg terrace later on, and proceed to a point whence they could view Grasmere Vale. But after the dis- course of the Wanderer they all return to the vicar's house in Langdale, whence the " Solitary" makes his way up to Blea Tarn, and his cell. This adds to the difficulty of localisation. It is evidently a picture, formed out of many elements, some real and some ideal, which we need not attempt to particularise. It will suffice to quote a few descrip- tive passages — Forth we went, And down the vale along the streamlet's edge Pursued our way, a broken company, Mute or conversing, single or in pairs. Thus having reached a bridge, that overarched ' Excursiou, book ix. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I17 The hasty rivulet where it lay becalmed In a deep pool, by happy chance we saw A two-fold image ; on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same ! Most beautiful. On the green turf, with his imperial front Shaggy and bold, and wreathed horns superb. The breathing creature stood ; as beautiful Beneath him, showed his shadowy counterpart. Each had his glowing mountains, each his sky, And each seemed centre of his own fair world : Antipodes unconscious of each other, Yet, in partition, with their several spheres, Blended in perfect stillness, to our sight 1 ^ "Turn where we may," said I, "we cannot err In this delicious region." — Cultured slopes. Wild tracts of forest-ground, and scattered groves. And mountains bare, or clothed with ancient woods. Surrounded us ; and, as we held our way Along the level of the glassy flood. They ceased not to surround us ; change of place. From kindred features diversely combined, Producing change of beauty ever new.^ Alert to follow as the Pastor led. We clomb a green hill's side ; and, as we clomb, The Valley, opening out her bosom, gave Fair prospect, intercepted less and less, O'er the flat meadows and indented coast Of the smooth lake, in compass seen : — far off, And yet conspicuous, stood the old Church- tower, In majesty presiding over fields ' Exatrsion, book ix. - Ibid. [8 THE ENGI,ISH LAKE DISTRICT And habitations seemingly preserved From all intrusion of the restless world By rocks impassable and mountains huge. Soft heath this elevated spot supplied, And choice of moss-clad stones, whereon we couched Or sate reclined ; admiring quietly The general aspect of the scene ; but each Not seldom over anxious to make known His own discoveries; or to favourite points Directing notice, merely from a wish To impart a joy, imperfect while unshared. That rapturous moment ne'er shall I forget When these particular interests were effaced From every mind I — Already had the sun. Sinking with less than ordinary state, Attained his western bound; but rays of light — Now suddenly diverging from the orb Retired behind the mountain tops or veiled By the dense air — shot upwards to the crown Of the blue firmament — aloft, and wide : And multitudes of little floating clouds, Through their ethereal texture pierced — ere we, Who saw, of change were conscious— had be- come Vivid as fire ; clouds separately poised, — Innumerable multitude of forms Scattered through half the circle of the sky ; And giving back, and shedding each on each, With prodigal communion, the bright hues Which from the unapparent fount of glory They had imbibed, and ceased not to receive. That which the heavens displayed, the liquid deep Repeated ; but with unity sublime ! While from the grassy mountain's open side We gazed, in silence hushed, with eyes intent AS INTERPRETED P.Y WORDSWORTH. I 19 On the refulgent spectacle, diftused Through earth, sky, water, and all visible space, The Priest in holy transport thus exclaimed. ^ (Then follows the concluding apostrophe, etc.) As the seventh of the Evc7img VoliDitaries refers to Grasmere, a stanza from it may also be quoted. The " oak-crowned hill " may be a peak in the Easdale direction, or it may be Hammer- scar. It is to the Silver How group that he is referring. The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill, And sky that danced among those leaves, are still ; Rest smooths the way for sleep ; in field and bower Soft shades and dews have shed their blended power On drooping eyelid and the closing flower ; Sound is there none at which the faintest heart Might leap, the weakest nerve of superstition start ; Save when the Owlet's unexpected scream Pierces the ethereal vault ; and ('mid the gleam Of unsubstantial imagery, the dream, From the hushed vale's realities, transferred To the still lake) the imaginative Bird Seems, 'mid inverted mountains, not unheard. I have already remarked that Easdale valley is associated w^th the freshest and most productive period of Wordsworth's genius. It would be hard to say whether the terrace walk at Lancrigg, or the upper road from Grasmere to Rydal, is more closely identified with him. Walking with Lady Richard- son on that terrace in December 1843, ^^ said: " This is a striking anniversary to me, for this day forty-four years ago my sister and I took up our abode at Grasmere, and three days after we found ^ Excursion, book ix. I20 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT out this walk, which long" remained our favourite haunt." ^ Lady Richardson adds: "It was their custom to spend the fine days of summer in the open air, chiefly in the \'alley of Easdale. The Prelude was chiefly composed in a green mountain terrace on the Easdale side of Helm Crag, known by the name of Under Lancrigg, a place which he used to say he ' knew by heart.' The ladies sat at their work on the hill-side while he walked to and fro, on the smooth green mountain turf, humming out his verses to himself, and then repeating them to his sympathising and ready scribes, to be noted down on the spot, and transcribed at home."- This small mountain farm of Lancrigg belonged at that time to an old statesman, Rowlandson by name. He was afterwards obliged to part with it, in consequence of the imprudence of his son, and in 1840 he sold it to Mrs. Fletcher, the mother of the present proprietor. Lady Richardson. The poet Wordsworth acted as agent in the transaction, his daughter Dora being the clerk who transcribed the legal documents. It is now one of the loveliest spots in the Lake District. Lady Richardson, when on a visit at Fox How in 1839, made the following allusion to Lancrigg : — " On consulting Mr. Wordsworth about the beautiful little farm of Lancrigg (now for sale), in Easdale, he entered into the subject most kindly, and offered to find out for me its real value. He described the tangled copse, and a natural terrace under the crag, a very favour- ite resort of his and his sister's in bygone days, and said of the little ' Rocky Well,' ' I know it by ^ Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 439. - William IVordsivorth, by Lady Richardson, from Sharpens London Magazine, 1 85 1, p. 8. One of the best reviews of the Memoirs, and one of the most discrimi- nating estimates of the poet that has ever been written. AS INTERPRETED P.Y WORDSWORTH. 12 1 heart.' He then asked Mrs. Wordsworth to look at his Miscellaneous So/tncls and read the one suggested to him by the hkeness of a rock to a sepulchral stone in that hazel copse. This she did with much expression." ^ This well, of purest and coolest water, is at the base of a Rock, in delicious shade, where in May time the sorrel and the primrose are of the largest size and the most brilliant green. It is a spring' more beautiful than the "Nab Well" at Rydal, cooler than Brownrigg on Helvellyn. The path leading westwards from it, shaded by rich and varied underwood, is the "natural terrace" where Wordsworth used to spend these long summer days with his household, in fellowship with Nature, and in the pure delights of poetic labour. No one who has understood The Prelude^ with its profound vision of the Universe and of Human Life, will walk for the first time along this terrace, where it was chiefly composed, without emotion. Midway is that moss-grown stone described in the sonnet, to which Lady Richardson refers. Mark the concentred hazels that enclose Yon old grey Stone, protected from the ray Of noontide suns : — and even the beams that play And glance, while wantonly the rough wind blows, Are seldom free to touch the moss that grows Upon that roof, amid embowering gloom, The very image framing of a tomb. In which some ancient Chieftain finds repose Among the lonely mountains. — Live, ye trees ! ^ Autobios^raphy of Mrs. Fletcher, p. 224. Third Edition. Edinburgh: 1876. 122 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT And thou, grey Stone, the pensive Hkeness keep Of a dark chamber where the Mighty sleep: For more than F'ancy to the influence bends When sohtary Nature condescends To mimic Time's forlorn humanities. Of this sonnet, Wordsworth said to Miss Fenwick, " suggested in the wild hazel wood at the foot of Helm Crag, where the stone still lies, with others of like form and character, though much of the wood that veiled it from the glare of day has been felled."^ A few paces further west on this walk, where the path opens, is the spot alluded to above ; where Dorothy Wordsworth used to sit with her tablets, while her brother paced up and down composing his verses, and then dictating them to his devoted amanuensis, while Mrs. Wordsworth read, and the children played around. Referring to a visit of Wordsworth's to Lancrigg in 1840, Lady Richardson says : 2 "We all walked over the intack part of Lancrigg to our boundary wall, and to the point the poet especially admires, as commanding the wild mountain view into Far Easdale on one side, and the more cultivated part in the vale of Grasmere on the other, with the church-tower, the lake, and the end of Loughrigg as the boundary, which is a kind of sundial from that point of view. We went through the West Copse, which led us to Far Easdale, and back to Thorney How, by the flat part of the valley which goes by the name of Boothwaite, a favourite evening stroll of the poet." In a note — June 1878 — she adds: "The view was much better then (in 1840) than now, as, owing to the growth of the trees, ^ Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 57. - Autobiography, p. 248. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 23 much is taken from that point, and the character of the sundial lost. He liked the contrast of view, the wildness of Far Easdale on the one side, and the church-tower and village scene on the other."' Still more interesting is the record of a visit made by the poet to Lancrigg in 1841. "We took a walk on the terrace, and he went as usual to his favourite points. On our return he was struck with the berries on the holly-tree, and said, 'Why should not you and I go and pull some berries from the other side of the tree, which is not seen from the window? and then we can go and plant them in the rocky ground behind the house.' We pulled the berries, and set forth with our tools : I made the holes, and the poet put in the berries. He was as earnest and eager about it, as if it had been a matter of importance ; and as he put the seeds in, he every now and then muttered, in his low solemn tone, that beautiful verse from Burns's Vision : — ' And wear thou this, she solemn said, And bound the holly round my head, The polished leaves and berries red Did rustling play; And like a passing thought, she fled In light aw^ay.' " He clambered to the highest rocks in the ' Tom Intak,' and put in the berries in such situations as Nature sometimes does, with such true and beauti- ful effect. He said, ' I like to do this for posterity. Some people are selfish enough to say, What has posterity done for me ? But the past has done much for us.'"^ ^ Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 438 : or Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 436. 124 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. Lady Richardson pointed out these holHes to me in 1878. They are in various places along- the terrace. May they live "for posterity." Words- worth asked her to preserve this terrace path in its natural state, as it was in his day ; and she has done so. She pointed out a small group of oak- trees in the flat of Easdale, like an island in the green meadow, to which Wordsworth had often called her attention. " Watch your shrubs well," he said, " that they may not prevent the sight of that clump of oaks ; for they give a great character to the view." CHAPTER V. HELVELLYN, ULLSWATER, ETC. In tracing out the places mentioned by Words- worth, it seems a natural course, after leaving Grasmere, to go over to Patterdale by the Grisdale Hawes, and to return to Rydal by Kirkstone. The places in the Ullswater district associated with the poet are best approached by the road from Grasmere to Helvellyn, leading past Grisdale Tarn. This path, up Tongue Ghyll, so often taken by Wordsworth and his friends, is, on many grounds, the most interesting of the routes to Helvellyn. The way in which the mountains open up, and the valleys seem to deepen as you ascend, is striking : and the view to the west and south, from the rocks on the side of Seat Sandal, just above the Tongue Ghyll waterfall, is specially fine. A'scending Tongue Ghyll to Grisdale Hawes, the passage at the beginning of the eighth book of The Prelude will occur to many — What sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard Up to thy summit, through the depth of air Ascending, as if distance had the power To make the sounds more audible? What crowd Covers, or sprinkles o'er, yon village green? They hold a rustic fair — a festival, 125 126 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Such as, on this side now, and now on that, Repeated through his tributary vales, Helvellyn, in the silence of his rest, Sees annually, if clouds towards either ocean Blown from their favourite resting-place, or mists Dissolved, have left him an unshrouded head.-^ Few of the tarns in the Lake District are more impressive than Grisdale, in its loneliness and seclusion. The following stanza in reference to it is by another poet, and a man of rare endo\\ments (the late Frederick Faber), of whom Wordsworth said, " He had not only as good an eye for Nature as I have, but a better one, and sometimes pointed out to me effects on the mountains which I had never detected." ^ Father Faber says that if he wished " to build himself a hermitage," In yon pale hollow would I dwell Where waveless Grisdale meekly lies. And the three clefts of grassy fell Let in the blueness of the skies ; And lowland sounds come travelling up To echo in that mountain cup. Where from the tarn the shallow brook By rough Helvellyn shapes its way, ^ The window of my cell should look Eastward upon the birth of day, etc.'^ This is the exact spot where the parting took place between the brothers William, and John ^ The Prelude, book viii. - vSee Recollections of Wordszvorth, by Aubrey de Vere. Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 488. '^ Poems, l.Kxxviii. p. 250. Ed. 1857. AS INTERPRETED I'.V WORDSWORTH. 127 Wordsworth, and where the poet afterwards com- posed the following elegiac stanzas. [I have the less scruple in quoting the above lines, as with all their excellence, they heighten by contrast the effect of the stanzas which follow. The work of such a man as Faber, compared with Wordsworth's, shows how rare it is, in interpreting Nature, to reach the point where perfect simplicity and supreme insight go hand in hand.] ELEGIAC VERSES, IN MEMORY OF MY BROTHER, JOHN WORDSWORTH, COMMANDER OF THE E. I. COMPANY'S SHIP THE EARL OF ABERGAVENNY, IN WHICH HE PERISHED BY CALAMITOUS SHIPWRECK, FEB. 6tH, 1805. Composed near the Mountain track, that leads from Grasmere through Grisdale Hawes, where it descends towards Patterdale. 1805. The Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo ! That instant, startled by the shock. The Buzzard mounted from the rock Deliberate and slow : Lord of the air, he took his flight; Oh I could he on that woeful night Have lent his wing, my brother dear. For one poor moment's space to Thee, And all who struggled with the Sea, When safety was so near. II. Thus in the weakness of my heart I spoke (but let that pang be still) When rising from the rock at will, I saw the Bird depart. 128 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT And let me calmly bless the Power That meets me in this unknown Flower, Affecting type of him I mourn ! With calmness suffer and believe, And grieve, and know that I must grieve, Not cheerless, though forlorn. III. Here did we stop ; and here looked round While each into himself descends, For that last thought of parting Friends That is not to be found. Hidden was Grasmere Vale from sight, Our home and his, his heart's delight, His quiet heart's selected home. But time before him melts away. And he hath feeling of a day Of blessedness to come. IV. Full soon in sorrow did I weep. Taught that the mutual hope was dust, In sorrow, but for higher trust. How miserably deep I All vanished in a single word, A breath a sound, and scarcely heard. Sea — Ship — drowned — Shipwreck — so it came; The meek, the brave, the good, was gone ; He who had been our living John Was nothing- but a name. That was indeed a parting 1 oh. Glad am I, glad that it is past; For there were some on whom it cast Unutterable woe. But they as well as I have gains ; — And grieve, and know that I nuist grieve, AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 29 F'l'om many a humble source, to pains Like these, there comes a mild release ; Even here I feel it, even this Plant Is in its beauty ministrant To comfort and to peace. VI. He would have loved thy modest grace, Meek Flower I To Him I would have said " It grows upon its natixe bed Beside our Parting-place ; There, cleaving to the ground it lies With multitude of purple eyes, Spangling a cushion green like moss ; ^ But we will see it, joyful tide I Some day, to see it in its pride, The mountain will we cross.'' VII. — Brother and friend, if verse of mine Have power to make thy virtues known, Here let a monumental vStone Stand — sacred as a Shrine ; And to the few who pass this way, Traveller or Shepherd, let it say, Long as these mighty rocks endure,— Oh do not thou too fondly brood, Although deserving of all good, On any earthly hope, however pure I Wordsworth's note to the poem is to the following effect :-- ■'The plant alluded to is the Moss Campion [Sileiie acaulis of Linnoeus). vSee among the Pocins on the Naming of Places, No. vi. L I30 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT " Moss CcDupion {Silc?ie acanHs).'" This most beautiful plant is scarce in England, though it is found in great abundance upon the niountains of Scotland. The first specimen I ever saw of it, in its native bed, was singularly fine, the tuft or cushion being at least eight inches in diameter, and the root proportionably thick. I have only met with it in two places among our mountains, in both of which I have since sought for it in vain. Botanists will not, I hope, take it ill, if I caution them against carrying off, inconsiderately, rare and beautiful plants. This has often been done, particularly from Ingleborough and other moun- tains in Yorkshire, till the species have totally disappeared, to the great regret of lovers of Nature living near the places where they grew. Dr. Cradock writes thus of the poem : " The parting place of the brothers William and John, at the foot of Grisdale Tarn, is marked with unusual precision in the poet's note on these verses. It is exactly where the Helvellyn path diverges from the old packhorse track to Pattcrdale, and is passed by hundreds of tourists. I have found the moss campion in times past within a few yards of the spot, but I do not think that it can now be seen within 200 yards of it. It goes out of flower before the main influx of tourists, and may thus escape entire destruction. The time of its flowering shows that Wordsworth's visit must have been in the spring or very early summer [of 1805], and there- fore while his grief was fresh. His burst of feeling on seeing the buzzard rise from the crags of Dolly wagon is most true to Nature. It is marvellous with what perverse ingenuity recent sorrow assimilates every object to itself The AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 13I far-fetched connection between the bird's flight and the shipwreck might possibly have occurred to any one under the same circumstances. But the comfort which Wordsworth found in the httle flower is all his own. In order to understand it, it is necessary to understand Jiinir' The buzzard may still be seen wheeling over the crags of Doli-wagen Pike ; and the moss campion still grows not far from the coolest of springs. With Wordsworth's note before me, I shall not particularise the spot, as the plant is doubtless less abundant than it used to be. Is it too much to expect of tourists and travellers that they should learn to admire the loveliest things in Nature, without snatching them from their birthplace, and destroying them? Can they not rejoice in the presence of Beauty, and let the memory of what they ha^■e seen remain a possession and a joy for ever, without adding the secondary gratification of plucking it, and carrying it a few miles, to wither in their hands, or those of others? It is surely sacrilege to uproot such memorials as the moss campion of Grisdale Tarn, or the daffo- dils and the Christmas roses at Dove Cottage. Some years ago, at the suggestion of the Rev. H. D. Rawnsley, Vicar of Crosthwaite, the Wordsworth Society placed a small memorial at this parting place of the brothers. About a hundred yards from where the stream turns from the Tarn, on the left hand of the road descending to Patterdale, a panel has been cut in the native rock, on which an inscription has been graven, taken from the Elegiac Stanzas. The poem most directly associated with Helvellyn is Fidelity. It commemorates the devotion of a dog to its master, who was killed by falling over the rocks at Red Tarn. The two stanzas which 132 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT describe and enshrine the spirit of the place are as follows : — It was a cove, a huge recess, That keeps, till June, December's snow ; A lofty precipice in front, A silent tarn below I Far in the bosom of Helvell)'n, Remote from public road or dwelling, Pathway, or culivated land ; From trace of human foot or hand. There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere; Thither the rainbow comes — the cloud — • And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams : and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past ; But that enormous barrier holds it fast. Thomas Wilkinson refers to this incident at some length, in his poem, Grasuicre Vale. A reference to it will be found in Lockhart's Life of Scott., and also in a letter from Mr. Luff, of Patterdale, to his wife, July 23, 1805, published in The Prose Works of Wordsworth., vol. ii. p. 172. The mountain group of Helvellyn and her sister hiils, which Wordsworth ascended so often, sug- gests another of his poems, addressed to Miss Blackett — who was living at Fox Ghyll — To , Oil her first ascent to the summit of Helve llyii. Inmate of a mountain-dwelling. Thou hast clomb aloft, and L-azed AS INTERPRETED RV WORDSWORTH. 1 33 From the watch-towers of Helvellyn; Awed, delighted, and amazed I Potent was the spell that bound thee. Not unwilling" to obey; For blue Ethers arms, flung round thee. Stilled the pantings of dismay. Lo ! the dwindled woods and meadows ; What a vast abyss is there I Lo 1 the clouds, the solemn shadows, And the glistenings — heavenly fair 1 And a record of commotion Which a thousand ridge^s yield ; Ridge, and gulf, and distant ocean Gleaming like a silver shield I Maiden I now take flight ; — inherit Alps or Andes — they are thine 1 With the morning's roseate Spirit, Sweep their length of snowy line ; Or survey their bright dominions In the gorgeous colours drest Flung from off the purple pinions, Evening spreads throughout the west I For the power of hills is on thee As was witnessed through thine eye Then when old Helvellyn won thee To confess their majesty I Amongst the memorials of the Italian tour, which Wordsworth took with Henry Crabb Robinson, there is one entitled Musi7igs near Aquapendente^ 134 I'HE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT also associated with Hclvcllyn. The sight of the broom, growing amongst the Appennines in the month of April, at once suggests his own West- moreland hills and vales. His spirit flies home- ward, and he thinks how it is faring with the place he loved so well. What I with this broom in flower Close at my side ! She bids me fly to greet Her sisters, soon like her to be attired With golden blossoms opening at the feet Of my own Fairfield. The glad greeting given. Given with a voice and by a look returned Of old companionship. Time counts not minutes Ere, from accustomed paths, famiHar fields, The local Genius hurries me aloft, Transported over that cloud-wooing hill. Seat Sandal, a fond suitor of the clouds. With dream-like smoothness, to Helvellyn's top, There to alight upon crisp moss, and range Obtaining ampler boon, at every step. Of visual sovereignty — hills multitudinous, (Not Apennine can boast of fairer) hills Pride of two nations, wood and lake and plains. And prospect right below of deep coves shaped By skeleton arms, that from the mountain's trunk Extended, clasp the winds, \\'ith mutual moan Struggling for liberty, while undismayed The shepherd struggles with them. Onward thence And downward by the skirt of Greenside fell And by Glenridding-screes, and low Glencoign, Places forsaken now, though lo\ing still The muses, as they loved them in the days Of the old minstrels and the border bards. — But here am I fast bound ; and let it pass, AS INTPIRPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 35 The simple rapture ; — who that travels far To feed his mind with watchful eyes could share Or wish to share it? — One there surely was, "The Wizard of the North," with anxious hope Brought to this genial climate, when disease Preyed upon body and mind, yet not the less Had his sunk eye kindled at those dear words That spake of bards and minstrels ; and his spirit Had liown with mine to old Helvell)-n's brow Where once together, in his day of strength, We stood rejoicing, as if earth were free From sorrow, like the sky abo^■e our heads. In the Grasmere Journal of Dorothy Wordsw^orth there are numerous fragments of verses, evidently dictated by the brother to the sister, but left in an unfinished state. One of these refers to the old Westmoreland shepherd Michael, immortalized in the poem, over which Wordsworth spent so much time and labour, and were originally meant to form part of that poem. The following lines occur in it- — There is a shapeless crowd of unhewn stones That lie together, some in heaps, and some In lines, that seem to keep themselves alive In the last dotage of a dying form. At least so seems it to a man who stands In such a lonely place, .... vShall he who gives his days to low pursuits Amid the undistinguishable crowd Of cities, 'mid the same eternal flow Of the same objects, melted and reduced To one identity, by differences That have no law, no meaning, and no end, Shall he feel yearning to these lifeless forms OF TT "KT T -rr .T^ir^ 136 THE ENGLISH I AKE DISTRICT And shall wc think that Nature is less kind To those who all day long, through a long life, Have walked within her sight ? It cannot be. Descending to the Patterdale valley, there are two poems referring to the district of U lis water, both so perfect in their way, that, however well known, a book such as this would be incomplete without them. The one is entitled Az?'ey Force Valley, the other is the poem on The Daffodils. The first is an admirable specimen of what I may call idealised realism. It is faithful to the place in its minutest detail, while the whole scene is perfectly transfigured. You see the brook as it flows, and are instantly carried in imagination to its birthplace, and to its origin, coeval with the hills. Its voice does not lessen, but rather deepens the calm of the valley. The breeze just entering the grove, by the oak unfelt, but moving the lighter leaves of the ash, and making A soft eye-music of slow-waving boughs, is one of the happiest in the whole range of Wordsworth's imagery; the appeal which Nature makes through one of the senses being heightened by its being expressed in terms of another sense. Not a breath of air Ruffles the bosom of this leafy glen. From the brook's margin, wide around, the trees Are steadfast as the rocks ; the brook itself, Old as the hills that feed it from afar. Doth rather deepen than disturb the calm Where all things else are still and motionless And yet,']even now, a little breeze, perchance Escaped • from boisterous winds that rage without. AS INTERPRETED 1!V WORDSWORTH. 1 37 Has entered, by the sturdy oaks iinfelt, But to its gentle touch how sensitive Is the light ash I that, pendent from the brow Of yon dim ca\e, in seeming silence makes A soft eye-music of slow-waving boughs Powerful almost as vocal harmony To stay the wanderer's steps and soothe his thoug-hts. "The Light Ash" is still "pendent" from the rocks at Aira Force. Within a short distance of it, and near Ullswater, are the ruins of Lyulph's Tower, in connection with which Wordsworth's poem, TJic Soinnajiihulist, will be remembered, of which the first and last stanzas are as follows — List, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower At eve ; how softly then Doth Aira-force, that torrent hoarse Speak from the woody glen ! Fit music for a solemn vale I And holier seems the ground To him who catches on the gale The spirit of a mournful tale, Embodied in the sound. Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course, Nor fear memorial lays. Where clouds that spread in solemn shade, Are edged with golden rays ! Dear art thou to the light of heaven. Though minister of sorrow ; Sweet is thy voice at pensive even ; And thou, in lovers' hearts forgiven, Shalt take thy place with Yarrow I 138 THE ENGT.ISH LAKE DISTRICT Not far from Lyulph's Tower is Gowbarrow Park, for ever associated with the poem on The Daffodils^ two Hnes of which, in the last stanza — the finest in the poem — were added by Mrs. Wordsworth ; in reference to v.hich the poet truly remarks, " If thoroughly felt, they would annihilate nine-tenths of the reviews of the king- dom ; as they would find no readers." He refers to the style of literary criticism then current. The daffodils still grow in abundance on the shore of the lake below Gowbarrow Park. Mrs. Words- worth's lines are printed in italics. I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils ; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way. They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay ; Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced ; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee : A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed — and gazed — but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 39 They flash upon that iniua7'd eye Which is the bliss of solitude ; And then my heart \\'\\X\ pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. In Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal the following occurs, under date April 15, 1802 — " It was a threatening- misty morning, but mild. We set off after dinner from Eusmere. Mr. Clarkson went a short way with us, but turned back. The wind was furious, and we thought w^e must have returned. We first rested in the large boat-house, then under a furze bush opposite Mr. Clarkson's. Saw the plough going in the field. The wind seized our breath. The lake was rough. There was a boat by itself, floating in the middle of the bay below Water Millock. We rested again in the Water Millock Lane. The hawthorns, black and green; the birches here and there greenish, but there is yet more of purple to be seen on the twigs. ... A few primroses by the roadside . . . wood-sorrel flower, the ane- mone, scentless violets, strawberries, and that starry yellow flower which Mr. C. calls pilewort. When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow Park, we saw a few^ daffodils close to the water side. We fancied that the sea had floated the seeds ashore, and that the little colony had so sprung up. But as we went along there were more, and yet more ; and, at last, under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the shore, about the breadth of a country turnpike road. I never saw daffodills so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones, about and above them; some rested their heads upon these stones, as on a pillow, for weariness ; and the rest tossed and reeled and danced, and I40 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT seemed as if they \-crily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the lake. They looked so gay, ever glancing, ever changing. This wind blew directly o\er the lake to them. There was here and there a little knot, and a few stragglers higher up ; but they were so few as not to disturb the simplicity, unity, and life of that one busy highway. We rested again and again. The bays were stormy, and we heard the waves at different distances, and in the middle of the water, like the sea. ..." The day after TJie Daffodils was composed, he wrote the following, while resting at the foot of Brother's Water — The Cock is crowing. The stream is flowing. The small birds twitter. The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun ; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest ; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising ; There are forty feeding like one ! Like an army defeated The snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill ; The Ploughboy is whooping — anon — anon : There's joy in the mountains ; There's life in the fountains ; Small clouds are sailing, Blue sky prevailing; The rain is over and gone I To the right of Brother's Water, as you look towards Kirkstone, is the secluded ravine of AS INTERPRETED V,\ WORDSWORTH. 141 Hartsope, at the foot of Dovedale. It was near to this, "above Hartsope Hall," that Wordsworth saw the grand atmospheric eftect "above and among- the mountains," described in the second iDook of 77/6' Ex'cu7'sio?i. Through the dull mist, a step, A single step, that freed me from the skirts Of the blind ^•apour, opened to my view Glory beyond all glory ever seen By waking sense or by the dreaming" soul I The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city — boldly say A wilderness of building", sinking far And self-withdrawn into a boundless depth Far sinking" into splendour — without end I Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted : here, serene pavilions bright. In avenues disposed ; there, towers begirt With battlements, that on their restless fronts Bore stars — illumination of all gems 1 By earthly nature had the effect been wrought Upon the dark materials of the storm Now pacified : on them, and on the coves And mountain-steeps and summits, whereunto The vapours had receded, taking there Their station under a cerulean sky. Oh, 'twas an unimaginable sight ! Clouds, mists, streams, watery rocks and emerald turf. Clouds of all tincture, rocks and sapphire sky Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed, Molten together, and composing thus. Each lost in each, that mar\ellous array Of temple, palace, citadel, and huge Fantastic pomp of structure without name, 142 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT In fleecy folds voluminous enwrapped. Right in the midst, where interspace appeared Of open court, an object like a throne Under a shining canopy of state Stood fixed ; and fixed resemblances were seen To implements of ordinary use. But vast in size, in substance glorified ; Such as by Hebrew prophets were beheld In vision — forms uncouth of mightiest power For admiration and mysterious awe.-^ Mention of Patterdale recalls the fact that a cottage under Place Fell at one time very nearly became the poet's home. Had it done so, Ullswater would have been immortalised as Rydal has been. The crags of Place Fell and Hallin Fell would have been described as Nab Scar and Loughrigg have been ; all the rocky promontories and natural terraces of Ullswater, the streams and groves of Patterdale, would have been made familiar to posterity by his genius. The following is the account of the transaction supplied in the Memoirs. A small cottage and a little estate, under the magnificent hill called Place Fell, attracted his attention in 1805; and, hearing that it might be purchased, he made an offer of ^800 for it. The owner would not part with it for less than ^1000. This Wordsworth did not think it prudent to give. But Lord Lonsdale, desirous of presenting the small property to Wordsworth, paid ^800 to his account, under the impression that the ground -was to be sold for that amount. Wordsworth, however, would only accept of ^200, which he thought was the amount the proprietor had asked in excess of its real value. - ^ Excursion, book ii. - Memoirs, vol. i. p. 319. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 43 From Brother's Water one naturally ascends the Pass of Kirksfo?ic. It is thus that Dorothy Wordsworth recorded her walk with her brother on the i6th of April, 1800, the day after the poem on The Daffodils was written : " The sun shone, the wind had passed away, the hills looked cheerful. The river was very bright, as it flowed into the lake. The church rises up behind a little knot of rocks, the steeple not so high as an ordinary three-storey house ; trees in a row in the garden under the wall. We set forward. The valley is at first broken by little rocky, woody knolls, that make retiring places, fairy valleys in the vale. The river winds along- under these hills, travelling- not in a bustle, but not slowly, to the lake. We saw a fisherman in the flat meadow on the other side of the water. He came towards us, and threw his line over the two-arched bridge. It is a bridge of a heavy construction, almost bending inwards in the middle ; but it is grey, and there is a look of ancientry in the architecture of it that pleased me. As we go on, the vale opens out more into one vale, with somewhat of a cradle bed. Cottages, with groups of trees on the side of the hills. We passed a pair of twin children, two years old ; sat on the next bridge which we crossed, a single arch. We rested again upon the turf, and looked at the same bridge. We observed arches in the water, occasioned by the large stones sending it down in two streams. A sheep came plunging through the river, stumbled up the bank, and passed close to us. It had been frightened by an insignificant looking dog on the other side. It's fleece dropped a glittering- shower under its belly. Primroses by the roadside ; pilewor. that shone like stars of gold in the sun ; violets, straw- berries retired and half-buried in the grass. When we came to the foot of Brother's Water, I left 144 THK ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT William sitting- on the bridge, and went along the path on the right side of the lake through the wood. I was delighted with what I saw : the water under the boughs of the bare old trees, the simplicity of the mountains, and the exquisite beauty of the path. There was one grey cottage. I repeated the Gloiv- -duonii as I walked along. I hung over the gate, and thought I could have stayed for ever. When I returned I found William writing a poem descripti\'e of the sights and sounds we saw and heard. There was the gentle flowing of the stream, the glittering lively lake, green fields, without a living creature to be seen on them ; behind us, a flat pasture, with forty-two cattle feeding; to our left, the road leading to the hamlet. No smoke there ; the sun shone on the bare roofs. The people were at work, ploughing harrowing and sowing; lassies working ; a dog barking now and then ; cocks crowing, birds twittering; the snow in patches at the top of the highest hills ; yellow palms, purple and green twigs on the birches, ashes with their glittering stems quite bare. The hawthorn, a bright green, with black stems under the oak. The moss of the oaks glossy. ... As we went up the vale of Brother's Water, more and more cattle feeding ; a hundred of them. William finished his poem before we got to the foot of Kirkstone." Again : " The walk up Kirkstone was ^•ery interesting. The becks among the rocks were all aliA'e. William shouted me the little mossy streamlet, which he had before loved -when he saw its bright green track in the snow. The view above Ambleside very beautiful. There we sat, and looked down on the green \ale. We watched the crowds at a little distance from us become white as silver, as they flew in the sunshine, and when they went still farther they looked like shapes of water passing over the green fields." AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH, 1 45 Of his poem called The Pass of Kirkstone^ Wordsworth said it embodied " Thoughts and feelings of many walks in all weathers, by day and night, over this pass, alone, and with beloved friends." 1 Within the mind strong fancies work, A deep delight the bosom thrills, Oft as I pass along the fork Of these fraternal hills : Wliere, save the rugged road, we find No appanage of human kind. Nor hint of man ; if stone or rock Seem not his handy-work to mock By something cognisably shaped ; Mockery — or model roughly hewn, And left as if by earthquake strewn, Or from the Flood escaped : Altars for Druid service fit ; (But where no fire was ever lit, Unless the glow-worm to the skies Thence offer nightly sacrifice) Wrinkled Egyptian monument ; Green moss-grown tower ; or hoary tent ; Tents of a camp that never shall be razed— On which four thousand years have gazed I Ye plough-shares sparkling on the slopes I Ye snow-white lambs that trip Imprisoned 'mid the formal props Of restless ownership I Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall To feed the insatiate Prodigal 1 Lawns, houses, chattels, groves and fields. And all the fertile valley shields ; ^ I. F. MS. M 146 THE p:nglish lake district Wages of folly — baits of crime, Of life's uneasy game the stake, Playthings that keep the eyes awake Of drowsy, dotard Time ; — O care I O guilt I — O vales and plains, Here, 'mid his own un vexed domains, A Genius dwells, that can subdue i At once all memory of You, — Most potent when mists veil the sky, Mists that distort and magnify; While the coarse rushes, to the sweeping breeze. Sigh forth their ancient melodies I III. List to those shriller notes I — f/ui^ march Perchance was on the blast. When, through this Height's inverted arch, Rome's earliest legion passed 1 —They saw adventurously impelled. And older eyes than theirs beheld. This block — and^yon, whose church-like frame Gives to this savage Pass its name. Aspiring Road I that lov'st to hide Thy daring in a vapoury bourn. Not seldom may the hour return When thou shalt be my guide : And I (as all men may find cause. When life is at a weary pause. And they have panted up the hill Of duty with reluctant will) Be thankful, even though tired and faint, For the rich bounties of constraint ; Whence oft invigorating transports flow That choice lacked courage to bestow I AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 47 IV. My Soul was grateful for delight That wore a threatening- brow ; A veil is lifted — can she slight The scene that opens now ? Though habitation none appear, The greenness tells, man must be there : The shelter — that the perspective Is of the clime in which we live : Where Toil pursues his daily round : Where Pity sheds sweet tears — and Love, In woodbine bower or birchen grove, Inflicts his tender wound. — Who comes not hither ne'er shall know How beautiful the world below; Nor can he guess how lightly leaps The brook adown the rocky steeps. Farewell, thou desolate Domain ! Hope, pointing to the cultured plain, Carols like a shepherd-boy : And who is she ? — Can that be Joy ! Who, with a sunbeam for her guide, Smoothly skims the meadows wide : While Faith, from yonder opening cloud. To vale and hill proclaims aloud, " Whate'er the weak may dread, the wicked dare. Thy lot, O man, is good, thy portion fair I" CHAPTER VI. AMBLESIDE, LANGDALE, BLEA TARN, ETC. Descending to Ambleside by Stock Ghyll, the mountain in front, across the \alley, is Wansfell ; thus addressed by Wordsworth, as it is seen from Rydal Mount— Wansfeh I this Household has a favoured lot, Living with liberty on thee to gaze, To watch while Morn first crowns thee with her rays. Or when along thy breast serenely float Evening's angelic clouds. Yet ne'er a note Hath sounded (shame upon the Bard I) thy praise For all that thou, as if from Heaven, hast brought Of glory lavished on our quiet days. Bountiful Son of Earth I when we are gone From every object dear to mortal sight, As soon we shall be, may these words attest How oft, to elevate our spirits, shone Thy visionary majesties of light. How in thy pensive glooms our hearts found rest, To this may be added the sonnet which follows it, referring to Ambleside — While beams of orient light shoot wide and high, Deep in the vale a little rural Town Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own. That mounts not toward the radiant morning sky, THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. 1 49 But, with a less ambitious sympathy, Han^s o'er its Parent waking to the cares, Troubles, and toils that every day prepares. So Fancy, to the musing Poet's eye. Endears that Lingerer. And how blest her sway (Like influence never may my soul reject) If the calm Heaven, now to its zenith decked With glorious forms in numberless array, To the lone shepherd on the hills disclose Gleams from a world in which the saints repose. The forty-fifth sonnet in the third section of the same series (the Miscellaneous Sonnets) is not inap- propriate here. ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY. Is then no nook of English ground secure From rash assault I Schemes of retirement sown In youth, and 'mid the busy world kept pure As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown, Must perish ; — how can they this blight endure? And must he too the ruthless change bemoan Who scorns a false utilitarian lure 'Mid his paternal fields at random thrown? Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orrest-head Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance : Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance Of Nature ; and, if human hearts be dead. Speak, passing winds ; ye torrents, with your strong And constant voice, protest against the wrong. After reading this sonnet one naturally wonders what its author would have thought of the appro- priation of Thirlmere by Manchester. Wordsworth appends the following note : " The degree and kind of attachment which many of the yeomanry feel to their small inheritances can 150 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTKICT scarcely be overrated. Near the house of one of them stands a magnificent tree, which a neighbour of the owner advised him to fell for profit's sake. ' Fell it I ' exclaimed the owner, ' I had rather fall on my knees and worship it.'" Dr. Cradock says: "The yeoman was, I believe, Mr. Birkett, owner of a farm which lies a few fields back on the left of the road, between Waterhead and Troutbeck Bridge. My informant was the Reverend Mr. Jefferies of Grasmere, who was living in the country at the time of the occurrence which provoked the sonnet. I am told that the tree (an oak) is still standing, but I have not seen it." Another sonnet, number six of the first series, refers to a spot in this part of the district, which is, I suspect, very little known. The following " note " upon it occurs in the I. F. MS. "This rill trickles down the hill-side into Windermere near Low Wood. My sister and I, on our first visit together to this part of the country, walked from Kendal, and we rested to refresh ourselves by the side of the lake where the streamlet falls into it. This sonnet was written some years after, in recollection of that happy ramble, that most happy day and hour." ^ There is a little unpretending Rill Of limpid water, humbler far than aught That ever among Men or Naiads sought Notice or name I — It quivers down the hill. Furrowing its shallow way with dubious will : Yet to my mind this scanty stream is brought Ofter than Ganges or the Nile ; a thought Of private recollection sweet and still I Months perish with their moons ; year treads on year : ^ Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 53. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I5I But, faithful Emma ! thou with mc canst say That, while ten thousand pleasures disappear, And flies their memory fast almost as they ; The immortal Spirit of one happy day Lingers beside that Rill, in vision clear. Dr. Cradock writes: "There can surely be no doubt as to the identity of the 'little unpretending rill.' It runs into the lake about 100 yards south- wards from Low Wood Hotel garden, at the point where Wordsworth and his sister, walking from Kendal, first came upon the lake. It comes down from High Skelgill, and crosses the road, very near its junction with the lane leading to Troutbeck." Dr. Cradock's opinion on this point has been doubted by several. The Rev. R. Percival Graves of Dublin writes that when he left the parsonage at Bow- ness, while at Dovenest in 1843, he called at Rydal Mount, and " was told, both by Mr. and Mrs. Words- worth, as a fact in which I should take a special interest, that the 'little unpretending rill,' associated by the poet with the 'immortal spirit of one happy day,' was the rill which, rising near High Skelgill, at the back of Wansfcll, descends steeply down the hill-side, from behind the house at Dovenest, and crossing beneath the road, enters the lake near the gate of the drive which leads up to Dovenest." Ascending the valley of Langdale, and following the windings of the Brathay, another of the descriptive sonnets is our best guide to the spirit of the place. It was suggested on the banks of that stream, by the sight of those ubiquitous Pikes, which are visible from so many remote points in the district — the twin Langdales, as seen in the late autumn. The sonnet is entitled A^0Te7/?der ist. How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright The effluence from yon distant mountain's head. 152 THE ENGr.ISH LAKE DISTRICT Which, strown with snow smooth as the sky can shed, Shines Hke another sun — on mortal sight Uprisen as if to check approaching Night, And all her twinkling stars. Who now would tread, If so he might, yon mountain's glittering head — Terrestrial, but a surface, by the flight Of sad mortality's earth-sull)'ing wing, Unswept, unstained ? Nor shall the aerial Powers Dissolve that beauty, destined to endure. White, radiant, spotless, exquisitely pure. Through all vicissitudes, till genial Spring Has filled the laughing vales with welcome flowers. Proceeding up the valley we reach the small village of Chapel Stile, where is the grave of the Rev. Owen Lloyd, on whose headstone is carved Wordsworth's commemorative epitaph beginning By playful smiles (alas I too oft A sad heart's sunshine). And, as the spot is not far distant, this is the most fitting place to quote the pastoral on The Idle Shepherd- Boys ; or^ Dungeoii- Ghyll Force. The valley rings with mirth and joy ; Among the hills the echoes play A never never ending song, To welcome in the May. The magpie chatters with delight ; The mountain raven's youngling brood Have left the mother and the nest ; And they go rambling east and west In search of their own food ; Or through the glittering vapours dart In very wantonness of heart. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I 53 Beneath a rock upon the grass, Two boys are sitting in the sun : Their work, if any work they have, Is out of mind — or done. On pipes of sycamore they play The fragments of a Christmas hymn ; Or with that plant which in* our dale We call staghorn, or fox's tail, Their rusty hats they trim : And thus, as happy as the day, Those shepherds wear the time away. Along the river's stony marge The sand-lark chants a joyous song; The thrush is busy in the wood. And carols loud and strong. A thousand lambs are on the rocks, All newly born ! both earth and sky Keep jubilee, and more than all, Those boys with their green coronal ; They never hear the cry, That plaintive cry ! which up the hill Comes from the depth of Dungeon-Ghyll, It was a spot which you may see If ever you to Langdale go ; Into a chasm a mighty block Hath fallen, and made a bridge of rock : The gulf is deep below ; And, in a basin black and small, Receives a lofty waterfall. Of this poem Wordsworth said, with pardonable egoism : " When Coleridge and Southey were walking together upon the Fells, Southey observed that if I wished to be considered a faithful painter of rural manners, I ought not to have said that my shepherd-boys trimmed their rustic hats, as de- 154 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT scribed in the poem. Just as the words had passed his hps, two boys appeared, with the very plant entwined round their hats." With Hackett, "the craggy ridge that rises between the two Langdales and looks towards Windermere," is associated the Epistle to Sir George Beaumont^ already referred to, which describes the cottage- — High on the sunny hill. Luminous region, fair as if the prime Were tempting all astir to look aloft and climb. Here, too, he listened to the flute-playing of the Rev. Samuel Tilbrook of Peterhouse, Cambridge (who had purchased Ivy Cottage, below Rydal Mount), which suggested the sonnet beginning The fairest, brightest, hues of ether fade. The sweetest notes must terminate and die ; and concluding thus — Yet sacred is to me this mountain's head Whence I have risen, uplifted on the breeze Of harmony above all earthly care. Hackett cottage is also described in The Excursion, and it is more especially with the \iew of identifying the places referred to in that poem that we may now imaginatively wander up the Langdale valley. Of The Excursion, Wordsworth said to Miss Fenwick: "In the poem I suppose that the pedlar and I ascended from a plain country up the \ale of Langdale, and struck off a good way above the chapel to the western side of the vale. We ascended the hill, and thence looked down upon AS INTERPRETED J'.Y WORDSWORTH 1 55 the circular recess in which Hes Blea Tarn, chosen by the Sohtary for his retreat."^ This is more indefinite than appears at first sight. They "ascended the hill" — which, of course, is Ling- moor — but by what route? by the cleft which divides Lingmoor from Side Pike, almost opposite Millbeck and Dungeon Ghyll in Great Langdale ? or past Oak How and up the higher part of Ling- moor to its tarn, descending by Blea Tarn Ghyll ? The question is, as we shall see, important, as its answer will determine the site of that recess in the Blea Tarn Valley, which the Solitary describes so minutely. This is his description of their walk through lower Langdale, past Elter Water and Chapel Stile — He led me towards the hills Up through an ample vale, with higher hills Before us, mountains stern and desolate ; But, in the majesty of distance, now Set off, and to our ken appearing fair Of aspect, with aerial softness clad. And beautified with morning's purple beams.^ He contrasts the joy of those who walk in these mountain regions, with that of those who ride or drive — How faint Compared with ours ! who, pacing side by side. Could, with an eye of leisure, look on all That we beheld ; and lend the listening sense To every grateful sound of earth and air ; Pausing at will — our spirits braced, our thoughts Pleasant as roses in the thickets blown. And pure as dew bathing their crimson leaves.^ ^ L F. MS. - Excursion^ book ii. ^ Ibid. 156 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT The " throng of people " engaged at their "annual wake ■' next described must have been the villagers of Langdale. The Wanderer points to the " craggy summits " ^ on the left, and as if their quest had been Some secret of the mountains, cavern, fall Of water, or some lofty eminence. Renowned for splendid prospect far and wide. We are told how they diverged, and Scaled, without a track to ease our steps, A steep ascent ; and reached a dreary plain, With a tumultuous waste of huge hill-tops Before us ; savage region I which I paced Dispirited.^ This refers unmistakably to the summit of Ling- moor, the "tumultuous waste of huge hill-tops" being an apt description of Great End, BoA\fell, Shelter Crags, and Pike o' Blisco, straight before them, the Langdales to the north on the right, Wrynose, Wetherlam, and the Coniston mountains to the south-west. They walked along the summit of Lingmoor, When, all at once, behold I Beneath our feet, a little lowly vale, A lowly vale, and yet uplifted high Among the mountains ; even as if the spot Had been from eldest time by wish of theirs So placed, to be shut out from all the world I Urn-like it was in shape, deep as an urn ; With rocks encompassed, save that to the south Was one small opening, where a heath-clad ridge Supplied a boundary less abrupt and close ; A quiet treeless nook, with two green fields, A liquid pool that glittered in the sun. And one bare dwelling ; one abode, no more 1 ■ ^ Exciirsioti, \o\. ^ i. - Ibid. AS INTERPRETEn V.Y WORDSWORTH. I 57 It seemed the home of poverty and toil, Though not of want ; the little fields made green By husbandry of many thrifty years, Paid cheerful tribute to the moorland house. — There crows the cock, single in his domain : The small birds find in spring no thicket there To shroud them ; only from the neighbouring vales The cuckoo, straggling up to the hill tops, Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place. ^ The "little lowly vale" is, of course, the head of Little Langdale, with Blea Tarn in the centre, as seen from the top of Lingmoor, the only point (except the summit of Blake Rigg) from which it seems "urnlike." The "small opening" — "where a heath-clad ridge supplied a boundary" — is that which leads down into Little Langdale by Fell Foot and Busk. The "nook" is not now "tree- less," but the fir-wood on the western side enhances the solitude, and deepens the sense of seclusion. The "liquid pool that glittered in the sun," is, of course, Blea Tarn. The " one abode, no more," is the cottage, still solitary, now called Blea Tarn House, which is passed on the left under Side Pike. It is still true that up to this nook, "from neigh- bouring vales," the cuckoo Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place. The thoughts and feelings of the poet, when they first caught sight of this green recess from the top of Lingmoor, are thus expressed — Ah I what a sweet Recess, thought I, is here ! Instantly throwing down my limbs at ease Upon a bed of heath: — full many a spot Of hidden beauty have I chanced to espy Among the mountains ; never one like this ; ^ Excursion, book ii. 158 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT So lonesome, and so perfectly secure ; Not melancholy — no, for it is green, And bright, and fertile, furnished in itself With the few needful things that life requires. — In rugged arms how softly does it lie, How tenderly protected I Far and near We have an image of the pristine earth, The planet in its nakedness : were this Man's only dwelling, sole appointed seat, First, last, and single, in the breathing world, It could not be more quiet : peace is here Or nowhere ; days unruffled by the gale Of public news or private ; years that pass Forgetfully ; uncalled upon to pay The common penalties of mortal life. Sickness, or accident, or grief, or pain.^ Before they descend from the top of the mountain they hear a funeral dirge — We listened, looking down upon the hut But seeing no one ; and then the funeral procession, issuing from the cottage, winds away to the south, down the ridge into Little Langdale. Thereafter they descend. So, to a steep and difficult descent Trusting ourselves, we wound from crag to crag, Where passage could be won ; and, as the last Of the mute train, behind the heathy top Of that off-sloping outlet, disappeared, I, more impatient in my downward course. Had landed upon easy ground ; and there Stood waiting for my Comrade. When behold An object that enticed my steps aside I A narrow, winding, entry opened out ^ Excursion, hook ii. AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. 1 59 Into a platform — that lay, sheepfold-wise, Enclosed between an upright mass of rock And one old moss-grown wall ; — a cool recess, And fanciful I For where the rock and wall Met in an angle, hung a penthouse, Framed by thrusting two rude staves into the wall And o\'erlaying them with mountain sods ; To weather-fend a little turf-built seat Whereon a full-grown man might rest, nor dread The burning sunshine, or a transient shower; 15ut the whole plainh' wrought by children's hands I Whose skill had thronged the floor with a proud show Of baby houses, curiously arranged ; Nor wanting ornament of walks between, With mimic trees inserted in the turf. And gardens interposed. ^ This is the recess in which Voltaire's novel was supposed to be found. It was, I think, at a point about 200 yards above the house, in a narrow gorge below a waterfall, where a " moss-grown w^all " still approaches close to the rock on the other side of the stream, and where a " penthouse " might easily be made by children. The question will have occurred to many a reader of The Excursion^ Did Wordsworth mean this to be a literal description of what he saw in his mountain rambles ? or, since the characters are in part ideal, and framed out of elements supplied by different individuals, is not the scene also idealised ? I do not think that it is so to any considerable extent. While the actual meeting with an individual called the " Solitary," living at Blea Tarn, and the finding of a copy of Voltaire in a penthouse, belong '^ Excursion^ book ii. l6o THE ENGLISH T,AKE DISTRICT to the embellishment or drapery of the poem, it would be a total misreading"" of the genius of Words- worth to suppose that he idealised the scenery ; or that he would describe it at all, without a broad basis of fact. Inaccuracies there are, as well as idealisations, in his description of the locality (as we shall see) ; but Wordsworth's mind was too firmly anchored to reality, nay, it was too topographical, to permit of his building up a AvhoUy ideal picture, especially since he meant it to serve as the vehicle of ethical and religious teaching. He tells us (I. F. MS.) — speaking of the picture given by the Wanderer of the living — " in this nothing is introduced but what was taken from Nature and real life." But he goes on to say, " The cottage was called Hackett, and stands, as de- scribed, on the southern extremity of the ridge which separates the two Langdales." A house in that situation could not, of course, be the Blea Tarn Cottage. On the other hand, the cottage in which the Solitary lived must have been at I31ea Tarn. Wordsworth probably meant by his Fenwick note merely to indicate that his description of Blea Tarn Cottage was borrowed from Hackett. If we suppose the "penthouse," etc., to have been, as I think it was, in Blea Tarn Ghyll, it is very easy to realise the two men descending from It to the place where the Wanderer made a sudden stand ; For full in view, approaching through a gate That opened from the enclosure of green fields, Into the rough uncultivated ground Behold the man, etc.^ This of course refers to the flat ground on the more level part of the valley, near the cottage, along the side of which the present road passes. ^ Excursion, book ii. AS INTERPRETED HY WORDSWORTH. l6l Then, after their greeting and conversation on the Many precious rites And customs of our rural ancestry, etc., the)- proceed all together to the cottage. Homely was the spot; And, to my feeling, ere we reached the door. Had almost a forbidding nakedness ; Less fair, I grant, even painfully less fair, Than it appeared when from the beetling rock We had looked down upon it. All within. As left by the departed company, Was silent ; save the solitary clock That on mine ear ticked with a mournful sound. Following our Guide, we clomb the cottage- stairs And reached a small apartment dark and low, Which was no sooner entered than our Host Said gaily, " This is my domain, my cell, My hermitage, my cabin, what you will" — Scattered was the floor. And, in like sort, chair, window-seat, and shelf, Wjth books, maps, fossils, withered plants, and flowers, And tufts of mountain moss. Mechanic tools Lay intermixed with scraps of paper, some Scribbled with verse : a broken angling-rod And shattered telescope, together linked By cobwebs, stood within a dusky nook ; And instruments of music, some half-made, Some in disgrace, hung dangling from the walls. ^ In this little room, "dark and low," in the upper ^ Excursicn, book ii. N l62 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT flat of the cottage, they sat down to a homely rustic meal. (I fancy that the "solitary clock,'" the "cottage stairs," and the " apartment dark and low," are all reminiscences of Hackett) ; and Wordsworth goes on to describe, in a noble passage, how While at our pastoral banquet thus we sate Fronting the window of that little cell, I could not, ever and anon, forbear To glance an upward look on two huge Peaks, That from some other vale peered into this. " Those lusty twins," exclaimed our host, " if here It were your lot to dwell, would soon become Your prized companions. Many are the notes Which, in his tuneful course, the wind draws forth From rocks, woods, caverns, heaths, and dashing shores ; And well those lofty brethren bear their part In the wild concert — chiefly when the storm Rides high ; then all the upper air they fill With roaring sound, that ceases not to flow. Like smoke, along the level of the blast, In mighty current; theirs, too, is the song Of stream and headlong flood that seldom fails ; And, in the grim and breathless hour of noon, Methinks that I ha\e heard them echo back The thunder's greeting. Nor have Nature's laws Left them ungifted with a power to yield Music of finer tone ; a harmony. So do I call it, though it be the hand Of silence, though there be no voice ; — the clouds, The mist, the shadows, light of golden suns. Motions of moonlight, all come thither— touch, And have an answer — thither come, and shape A language not unwelcome to sick hearts And idle spirits :— there the sun himself, AS INTER PR KTED DV WORDSWORTH. 1 63 At the calni close of summer's longest day, Rests his substantial orb ; — between those heights And on the top of either pinnacle, More keenly than elsewhere in night's blue ^■ault, Sparkle the stars, as of their station proud. Thoughts are not busier in the mind of man Than the mute agents stirring there :■ — alone Here do I sit and watch.'^ ^ I cannot resist quoting what Mr. Stopford Brooke says of this passage : " Alark how the wind rejoices in these peaks, and they give back its wild pleasure : how all the things which touch and haunt them get their reply; how they are loved and love ; how busy are the mute agents there ; how proud the stars to shine on them.'"- It is usually supposed that the two huge peaks That from some other vale peer into this, Those lusty twins . . . refer to the Langdales, for no other reason, I sus- pect, than that the Langdales are twins. But, if the three men were seated, as described, in the upper room of the cottage (which has one small window looking towards the Pikes), they could not possibly see them. Side Pike and Pike o' Blisco alone could be seen. Either then, these are the peaks referred to, or, what is much more likely, the realism of the narrative here gi^•es wa)', and the finer Pikes of Langdale are introduced, though they are not visible from the house, because they belong to the district, and can be seen from so many points around. On the whole, I think that Wordsworth referred to the Langdale Pikes. Let any one, as he approaches ' Excursion, book ii. - Theology in the English Poets, p. 108. l64 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Blea Tarn from Little Langdale, sec them slow!)' rising and peering alone over the depression or haws, which divides the Langdales, and he will not doubt that they are the " lusty twins." Let the haws be in shadow, and the Pikes in sunlight (or the reverse), and the effect is one of the most striking in the whole district of the Lakes. Blea Tarn House is a humble cottage, resembling Ann Tyson's house at Hawkshead, in which Words- worth boarded when at school. On the ground- floor are a parlour, kitchen, and dairy. Ascending by nine stone steps to the upper flat, there are four small rooms, and one of these looks, as I have said, northwards in the direction of the Langdale Pikes. There are what seem the foundations of an older house a little lower down, say twenty yards nearer the tarn, beside a pollard ash ; and there are two cherry trees still farther down, one of considerable age. But I believe the present house was standing at the beginning of this century. It seems quite as old as the house at Grasmere, in which the incum- bent of Wytheburn — the clergyman described at the beginning of the seventh book of The Excursion — • lived. There are tw^o large poplars to the north of the cottage, and a sycamore near them. I cannot believe that the place was entirely " treeless " in Wordsworth's time. The description of the ruined chapel, which follows, towards the end of the second book of The E.vctirsion, is not taken from Langdale, but avowedly from the ruins on the ridge which sepa- rates Patterdale from Boardale and Martindale, near which Wordsworth saw the grand atmos- pheric effect recorded in page 141. But it is in reference to the places described at the beginning of the third book of The Excursion, entitled Despondency, that the identification of AS INTERPRETED HV WORDSWORTH. 1 65 details is most satisfactory. This book commences thus — A humming bee — a little tinkling rill — A pair of falcons wheeling on the wing, In clamorous agitation, round the crest Of a tall rock, their airy citadel — By each and all of these the pensi\e ear Was greeted, in the silence that ensued, When through the cottage-threshold we had passed, And, deep within that lonesome valley, stood Once more beneath the concave of a blue And cloudless sky — Anon exclaimed our Host, But which way shall I lead you? — how contri\e, In spot so parsimoniously endowed, That the brief hours, which yet remain, may reap Some recompense of knowledge or delight?" So saying, round he looked, as if perplexed ; And, to remo^•e those doubts, my grey-haired Friend Said — " Shall we take this pathway for our guide? — Upward it winds, as if, in summer heats. Its line had first been fashioned by the flock Seeking a place of refuge at the root Of yon black Yew-tree, whose protruded boughs Darken the silver bosom of the crag, From which she draws her meagre sustenance. There in commodious shelter may we rest. Or let us trace this streamlet to its source ; Feebly it tinkles with an earthy sound. And a few steps may bring us to the spot Where, haply, crowned \\'ith flow'rets and green herbs, The mountain infant to the sun comes forth, Like human life from darkness." — A quick turn 1 66 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT Through a straight passage of encumbered ground, Proved that such hope was vain ; for now we stood Shut out from prospect of the open vale, And saw the water, that composed this rill. Descending, disembodied, and diffused O'er the smooth surface of an ample crag, Lofty and steep, and naked as a tower. All further progress here was barred ; — x^nd who. Thought I, if master of a vacant hour, Here would not linger, willingly detained? Whether to such wild objects he were led When copious rains have magnified the stream Into a loud and white-robed waterfall Or introduced at this more quiet time.^ There is still a single " yew-tree " high up the eastern side of the valley, in the face of Lingmoor Fell, " darkening the silver bosom of the crag." The three men are supposed to be standing on the west of the tarn, and just a little to the north of the fir-wood which overshadows it, Deep within the lonesome valley. I think that the place can be identified even by the streamlet, which the Solitary proposes they should trace to its source. But the identification becomes complete to the letter, in the light of what follows. Upon a semicirque of turf-clad ground, The hidden nook discovered to our view A mass of rock, resembling, as it lay Right at the foot of that moist precipice, A stranded ship, with keel upturned, that rests ^ Excursion, book iii. AS INTERPRETED P.V WORDSWORTH. 1 67 Fearless of winds and waves. Three several stones Stood near, of smaller size, and not unlike To monumental pillars : and, from these Some little space disjoined, a pair were seen, That with united shoulders bore aloft A fragnxent, like an altar, tlat and smooth : Barren the tablet, yet thereon appeared A tall and shining- holl)% that had found A hospitable chink, and stood upright, As if inserted by some human hand In mockery, to wither in the sun. Or lay its beauty flat before a breeze. The first that entered. But no breeze did now Find entrance ; — high or low appeared no trace Of motion, save the water that descended, Diffused adown that barrier of steep rock, And softly creeping, like a breath of air, Such as is sometimes seen, and hardly seen, To brush the still breast of a crystal lake.^ The "barrier of steep rock'^ is the low perpen- dicular crag to the west of the tarn, immediately behind the fir-wood, and the "semicirque of turf- clad ground" is apparent at a glance, whether seen from below the rock or from above. Not only w^ill no other place answer to the description, but this corresponds to it with remarkable fidelity. There are many " perched blocks " high up the flank of Blake Rigg to the west, and on the slope of Ling- moor to the east, which might at first sight be mistaken for the stone like "a stranded ship with keel upturned," or the "fragment like an altar;" but though many large fragments of ice-borne rock lie about in curious positions, there is no "secluded" spot on the hill slopes. The "semicirque" is the ^ Excursion, book iii. l68 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT cup-shaped recess between the fir-wood and the cHff; and on entering it the rock resembhng- the "ship with keel upturned" is obvious. It Hes north-west to south-east, and is not an ice-borne block, but a fragment fallen from the crag above. It is now broken into three fragments by the weathering of many years. A sycanioi;e of average size is growing at its side ; its root being in the cleft, where the stone is broken. Holly gro\\s luxuriantly all along the face of the crag above, so that the bush found in the stone resembling a "Druid altar" is easily explained. The brook is a short one, flowing through the meadow pasture of the wood ; and is, after loo yards, lost in the turfy slope, but is seen again upon the face of the "moist precipice," "softly creeping," precisely as described. The "three several stones" that "stand near" are, I think, the one to the front, in a line with the keel of the ship ; and the other two, to the right and left respectively. The " pair " with the "fragment like an altar, flat and smooth," are to the left, and close at hand. " Behold a cabinet for sages built. Which kings might envy !" — Praise to this effect Broke from the happy old Man's reverend lip; Who to the Solitary turned, and said, " In sooth, with love's familiar privilege. You have decried the wealth which is your own. Among these rocks and stones, methinks, I see More than the heedless impress that belongs To lonely Nature's casual work : they bear A semblance strange of power intelligent. And of design not wholly worn away. Boldest of plants that ever faced the wind. How gracefully that slender shrub looks forth From its fantastic birth-place I And I own, Some shadowv intimations haunt me here, AS IXTKRPRETKD HV WORDSWORTH. 169 That in these shows a chronicle survives Of purposes akin to those of Man, Hut wrought with mightier arm than now prevails. —Voiceless the stream descends into a gulf With timid lapse : — and lo I while in this strait I stand — the chasm of sky above my head Is heaven's profoundest azure ; no domain For fickle, short-lived clouds to occupy, Or to pass through ; but rather an abyss In which the everlasting stars abide ; And whose soft gloom, and boundless depth, might tempt The curious eye to look for them by day.^ A pause ensued ; and with minuter care We scanned the ^'arious features of the scene : And soon the Tenant of that lonely \ale With courteous voice thus spake — " I shooiTd have grieved Hereafter, not escaping self-reproach. If from my poor retirement ye had gone Leaving this nook unvisited : but, in sooth, Your unexpected presence had so roused My spirits, that they were bent on enterprise ; And, like an ardent hunter, I forgot, Or, shall I say? — disdained, the game that lurks At my own door. The shapes before our eyes And their arrangement doubtless must be deemed The sport of Nature, aided by blind Chance, Rudely to mock the works of toiling Man. And hence, this upright shaft of unhewn stone. From Fancy, willing to set off her stores By sounding titles, hath acquired the name Of Pompey's pillar ; that I gravely style ^ Excursion, book iii. \jO THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT My Theban obelisk; and, there, behold A Druid cromlech I — thus I entertain The antiquarian humour, and am pleased To skim along" the surfaces of things, Beguiling harmlessly the listless hours. But if the spirit be oppressed by sense Of instability, revolt, decay, And change, and emptiness, these freaks of Nature And her blind helper Chance, do fhe?i suffice To quicken, and to aggravate — to feed Pity and scorn, and melancholy pride. Not less than that huge Pile (from some abyss Of mortal power unquestionably sprung) Whose hoary diadem of pendent rocks Confines the shrill-voiced whirlwind, round and round Eddying within its vast circumference, On Sarum's naked plain — than p)Tamid Of Egypt, unsubverted, undissolved — Or Syria's marble ruins towering high Above the sandy desert, in the light Of sun or moon.^ " Voiceless the stream descends, with timid lapse," is a perfect description of this tiniest and gentlest of rills, flowing through the meadow grass ; while the "chasm of sky above," of ^^'hich the Wanderer speaks, though an exaggeration, is more appropriate to this spot than to any other in the "lonely dell." Further, it must be remembered that the Solitary speaks of this place as "at his own door." The spot is not a quarter of a mile from the cottage. There was " a slope of mossy turf, defended from the sun," on which the Solitary invited Wordsworth ^ Excursion, book. ill. AS INTERPRETED P,Y WORDSWORTH. 171 and the Wanderer to rest, and on which they sat down. It was in a "covert nook," ^ a "hollow dell,"- a "deep hollow;"^ and from it, the path leading out of the glen and over into Little Lang- dale, along which the funeral train had passed, was visible.^ All these things point to the one spot I have indicated, on the west of the tarn. No one who knows the Exxiirsuvi well can visit the locality without being struck by the singularly minute fidelity of Wordsworth's allusions to place — his descriptive accuracy — while he does not attempt to take a verbal photograph of the scene. In addition, all that is said of the scenery is introduced casually, and serves as the mere setting or frame- work for a moral discourse of the loftiest order. There are some passages in the discourse of the Wanderer in the next, and finest, chapter of The Excii7'sion — entitled Despondency Corrected — which derive at least a portion of their significance from the place and the circumstances in which they are supposed to be spoken. For example — Then, as we issued from that covert nook, He thus continued, lifting up his eyes To heaven : — " How beautiful this dome of sky; And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed At thy command, how awful I Shall the soul Human and rational, report of Thee E\en less than these I — Be mute who will, who can. Yet I will praise Thee with impassioned voice : My lips, that may forget Thee in the crowd. Cannot forget Thee here ; where Thou hast built. For Thy own glory, in the wilderness ! Me didst Thou constitute a priest of Thine In such a temple as we now behold ' Exairsion, p. 100. - J bid. p. 134. '■^ Ibid. p. 112. ^ Ibid. p. 134. 72 THE ENCTJSH T.AKK DISTRICT Reared for thy presence : therefore, am I bound To worship here, and everywhere — as one Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the ways of poverty. From unreflecting ignorance preserx'ed. And from debasement rescued. By thy grace The particle divine remained unquenched ; And 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil. Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers, From paradise transplanted: wintry age Impends ; the frost will gather round my heart ; If the flowers wither, I am worse than dead! -Come, labour, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual sabbath : come, disease and want ; And sad exclusion through decay of sense ; But leave me unabated trust in thee — And let thy favour, to the end of life. Inspire me with ability to seek Repose and hope among eternal things — Father of heaven and earth ! and I am rich. And will possess my portion in content I And what are things eternal? — powers depart," The grey-haired Wanderer steadfastly replied. Answering the question which himself had asked, " Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And passions hold a fluctuating seat : But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken. And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists ; — immutably sur\i\'e. For our support, the measures and the forms, Which an abstract intelligence supplies ; Whose kingdom is where time and space are not. Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart. Do, with united urgency, require. What more that may not perish? — Thou, dread source, AS INTKRPRETKI) HY WORDSWORTH. 1 73 Prime, self-existing" cause and end of all That in the scale of being fill their place ; Above our human region, or below, Set and sustained ; — Thou, who didst wrap the cloud Of infancy around us, that thyself. Therein, with our simplicity awhile Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed ; Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep. Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restor'st us, daily, to the powers of sense And reason's steadfast rule — thou, thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which thou includest, as the sea her waves : For adoration thou endur'st ; endure For consciousness the motions of thy will ; For apprehension those transcendent truths Of the pure intellect, that stand as laws, (Submission constituting strength and power) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty I This uni\'erse shall pass away — a \vork Cilorious I because the shadow of thy might, A step or link, for intercourse with thee. Ah I if the time must come, in which my feet No more shall stray where meditation leads, By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild, Loved haunts like these; the unimprisoned Mind May yet have scope to range among her own. Her thoughts, her images, her high desires. If the dear faculty of sight should fail, Still, it may be allowed me to remember What visionary powers of eye and soul In youth were mine ; when, stationed on the top Of some huge hill^expectant, I beheld The sun rise up, from distant climes returned Darkness to chase and sleep ; and bring the day His bounteous gift I or saw him toward the deep 174 'I'HE p:nglish lake district Sink, with a retinue of flaming clouds Attended ; then, my spirit was entranced With joy exaked to beatitude ; The measure of my soul was filled with bliss, And holiest love ; as earth, sea, air, with light, With pomp, with glory, with magnificence l^ Again — 'Tis, by comparison, an easy task Earth to despise ; but, to converse with heaven — This is not easy : — to relinquish all We have, or hope, of happiness and joy, And stand in freedom loosened from this world, I deem not arduous : but must needs confess That 'tis a thing impossible to frame Conceptions equal to the soul's desires ; And the most difficult of tasks to ^^eep Heights which the soul is competent to gain. — Man is of dust : ethereal hopes are his. Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft, Want due consistence ; like a pillar of smoke, That with majestic energy from earth Rises ; but, having reached the thinner air. Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen.- The group are supposed to leave the recess at the foot of the crag, and to wander back towards the cottage. While, in this strain, the \enerable Sage Poured forth his aspirations, and announced His judgments, near that lonely house we paced A plot of green-sward, seemingly preserved By Nature's care from wreck of scattered stones And from encroachment of encircling heath : Small space ! but, for reiterated steps, ' Excursion, book iv. ^ JOid. u r: : - 1 T X AS INTERPRETKI) I]Y WORDSWORTH. 1 75 Smooth and commodious ; as a stately deck Which to and fro the mariner is used To tread for pastime, talking with his mates, Or haply thinking of far-distant friends, While the ship glides before a steady breeze. Stillness prevailed around us ; and the voice That spake was capable to lift the soul Toward regions yet more tranquil.^ Resuming his discourse, the Wanderer says — "Ambition reigns In the waste wilderness ; the Soul ascends Drawn towards her native firmament of heaven. When the fresh eagle, in the month of May, Upborne, at evening, on replenished wing, This shaded valley leaves ; and leaves the dark Empurpled hills, conspicuously renewing A proud communication with the sun Low sunk beneath the horizon I — List I — I heard, From yon huge breast of rock, a voice sent forth As if the visible mountain made the cry. Again!" — The eftect upon the soul was such As he expressed : from out the mountain's heart The solemn voice appeared to issue, startling The blank air — for the region all around Stood empty of all shape of life, and silent Save for that single cry, the unanswer'd bleat Of a poor lamb — left somewhere to itself, The plaintive spirit of the solitude I He paused, as if unwilling to proceed, Through consciousness that silence in such place Was best, the most affecting eloquence. But soon his thoughts returned upon themselves, And, in soft tone of speech, thus he resumed.- ^ Excursi'ou, book iv. - /did. 176 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT And the Solitary is again addressed by the Wan- derer in the following strain — These craggy regions, these chaotic wilds, Does that benignity pervade that warms The mole contented with her darksome walk In the cold ground ; and to the emmet gives Her foresight, and intelligence that makes The tiny creatures strong by social league ; Supports the generations, multiplies Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain Or grassy bottom, all, with little hills — Their labour, co\"ered, as a lake with wa\es ; Thousands of cities, in the desert place Ikiilt up of life, and food, and means of life I Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought, Creatures that in communities exist, Less, as might seem, for general guardianship Or through dependence upon mutual aid, Than by participation of delight And a strict love of fellowship, combined. What other spirit can it be that prompts The gilded summer flies to mix and weave Their sports together in the solar beam, Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy? More obviously the self-same influence rules The feathered kinds; the fieldfare's pensive flock, The cawing rooks, and sea-mews from afar, Hovering above these inland solitudes. By the rough wind unscattered, at whose call Up through the trenches of the long-drawn vales Their voyage was begun : nor is its power Unfelt among the sedentary fowl That seek yon pool, and there prolong their stay In silent congress ; or together roused Take flight ; while with their clang the air resounds. And over all, in that ethereal vault AS INTERPRETKl) I'.V WORDSWORTH. 1 77 Is the mute company of changeful clouds; Bright apparition, suddenly put forth, The rainbow smiling on the faded storm ; The mild assemblages of the starry heavens ; And the great Sun, earth's universal lord 1 ^ Take courage, and withdraw yourself from ways That run not parallel to Nature's course. Rise with the lark I your matins shall obtain (irace, be their composition what it may. If but with hers performed; climb once again, Climb every day, those ramparts ; meet the breeze Upon their tops, adventurous as a bee That from your garden thither soars to feed On new-blown heath ; let yon commanding rock Be your frequented watch-tower ; roll the stone In thunder down the mountains ; with all your might Chase the wild goat ; and if the bold red deer Fly to those harbours, driven by hound and horn Loud echoing, add your speed to the pursuit ; So, wearied to your hut shall you return, And sink at evening into sound repose.^ And, by the poet, thus — How divine. The liberty, for frail, for mortal, man To roam at large among unpeopled glens And mountainous retirements, only trod By devious footsteps ; regions consecrate To oldest times I and, reckless of the storm That keeps the raven quiet in her nest, Be as a presence or a motion — one Among the many there ; and while the mists ^ Exmrsio!?, book iv. ^ Ibid. O 178 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT Flying, and rainy vapours, call out shapes And phantoms from the crags and solid earth As fast as a musician scatters sounds Out of an instrument; and while the streams (As at a first creation and in haste To exercise their untried faculties) Descending from the region of the clouds. And starting from the hollows of the earth More multitudinous every moment, rend Their way before them — what a joy to roam An equal among mightiest energies ; And haply sometimes with articulate voice. Amid the deafening tumult, scarcely heard By him that utters it, exclaim aloud, " Rage on, ye elements ! let moon and stars Their aspects lend, and mingle in their turn With this commotion (ruinous though it be) From day to night, from night to day, pro- longed!"! Again, the "grey haired Wanderer" addresses him — A consciousness is yours How feelingly religion may be learned In smoky cabins, from a mother's tongue — Heard while the dwelling vibrates to the din Of the contiguous torrent, gathering strength At every moment, and, with strength, increase Of fury ; or, while snow is at the door, Assaulting and defending, and the wind, A sightless labourer, whistles at his work — Fearful ; but resignation tempers fear. And piety is sweet to infant minds. — The Shepherd-lad, that in the sunshine carves, On the green turf, a dial, to di\-ide The silent hours ; and who to that report ^ Excurstoi, book iv. AS INTKRPRRTET) T.V WORDSWORIH. 1 79 Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt. Throughout a long and lonely summer's day His round of pastoral duties, is not left With less intelligence for ni07'al things Of gravest import. Early he perceives. Within himself, a measure and a rule, Which to the sun of truth he can apply, That shines for him, and shines for all mankind. Experience daily fixing his regards On Nature's wants, he knows how few they are, And where they lie, how answered and appeased. This knowledge ample recompense affords For manifold privations ; he refers His notions to this standard; on this rock Rests his desires ; and hence, in after life, Soul-strengthening patience, and sublime content. Imagination — not permitted here To waste her powers, as in the worldling's mind, On fickle pleasures, and superfluous cares, And trivial ostentation — is left free And puissant to range the solemn walks Of Time and Nature, girded by a zone That, while it binds, invigorates and supports. Acknowledge, then, that whethef by the side Of his poor hut, or on the mountain top. Or in the cultured field, a Man so bred (Take from him what you will upon the score Of ignorance or illusion) lives and breathes For noble purposes of mind : his heart Beats to the heroic song of ancient days : His eye distinguishes, his sou] creates. ^ And again — Access for you Is yet preserved to principles of truth, Which the imaginative Will upholds ^ Exairsio7i, book iv. l8o THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT In seats of wisdom, not to be approached By the inferior Facuky that moulds, With her minute and specuhitive pains. Opinion, ever changing I I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell ; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely ; and his countenance soon - Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea. Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of Faith ; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things ; Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power ; And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless agitation. Here you stand, Adore, and worship, when you know it not ; Pious beyond the intention of your thought ; Devout above the meaning of your will. — Yes, you have felt, and may not cease to feel. The estate of man would be indeed forlorn If false conclusions of the reasoning power Made the eye blind, and closed the passages Through which the ear converses with the heart. Has not the soul, the being of your life. Received a shock of awful consciousness. In some calm season, when these lofty rocks At night's approach bring down the unclouded sky To rest upon their circumambient walls ; A temple framing of dimensions vast, And yet not too enormous for the sound Of human anthems Sublime of instrumental harmony. To glorify the Eternal ? What if these AS INTERPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. l8l Did never break the stillness that prevails Here — if the solemn nightingale be mute, And the soft woodlark here did never chant Her vespers — Nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering air Sends inspiration from the shadowy heights, And blind recesses of the caverned rocks ; The little rills, and waters numberless. Inaudible by daylight, blend their no.tes With the loud streams : and often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this fabric huge, One voice — the solitary raven, flying Athwart the concave of the dark blue dome, Unseen, perchance above all power of sight — An iron knell I with echoes from afar Plaint— and still fainter — as the cry, with which The wanderer accompanies her flight Through the calm region, fades upon the ear, Diminishing by distance till it seemed To expire ; yet from the abyss is caught again, And yet again recovered ? ^ No apology is needed for giving these long extracts from the sublimer passages of The Excursion^ which relate to the abode of the Recluse in Langdale. It will be seen and felt by all who visit the place — having first read and understood the poem — how its solitude, its repose, with " the strength of the hills" all around it, its silence broken only by the voice of waters, or of sheep on the hill-side, or of ravens far up in the corries of Blake Rigg, made the neighbourhood of Blea Tarn perhaps the fittest place in Westmoreland for these discourses of the Wanderer. Certain it is that some of the pro- foundest thoughts of philosophy, expressed in noblest ^ Excwsiou, book iv. 1 82 THi': ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT. numbers — thoughts which would have interested Herachtus, and deHghted Plato, which would have been hailed by Spinosa, and awakened a response in the soul of Imnianuel Kant — such as those embodied in the last quotation — are for ever associated with this retreat of the Solitary at Blea Tarn. CHAPTER VII. RVDAL MOUNT, LAKE, ETC. The Excursion was composed, for the most part, while the poet lived at Allan Bank. In the spring of 1811 he removed to the Grasmere parsonage, where he stayed two years ; and early in 1 8 1 3 he left Grasmere for Rydal Mount, which was his home for thirty-seven years, till his death in 1850. The Mount has often been described, and it has undergone no very material alteration since his death, more than forty years ago. The house — which had in many places fallen to decay during the interval between Mrs. Wordsworth's death in 1859, and the year in which the present tenant entered on his lease — required a complete alteration within, to render it habitable. Those who find fault with the changes that have been made — the loss of the old picturesque frontage, w^ith its ten windows, and the removal of the gravel terrace, with the ash tree near which was hung the "osier cage" of the do\-es — must remember that, as houses decay, they must be rebuilt — -which usually implies some change on the old design — and that as shrubbery con- tinues to grow, it must either be pruned or removed. It is natural to wish that the memorials of the poet in his old home should be preserved as unaltered as possible ; and this has been done at Rydal Mount. 183 1 84 THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT At the same time, The old order changeth, yielding place to new, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. If Rydal Mount — the house and part of the grounds— has succumbed, like everything else in the world, to the inevitable law by which changes are wrought in all "works of art and man's device," those who regret that it has not been kept up exactly as the poet left it, may remember that such preservation could not, in the nature of things, go on for ever ; and further, that had our poet belonged to this generation, and entered on the possession of the Mount a dozen years ago, he would doubtless have set the example of introducing changes upon the old order that prevailed in his time. Nor, in con- ceding this, do I put a weapon — as I may perhaps be told — in the hands of those who contest the very object for which this little book is written. Here, too, as in things of graver moment than the preservation of houses and garden grounds, change is inevitable ; but all change should be on the lines of the past ; a new departure guided by the spirit of the past, and loyal to all that was best within it. Returning from this digression, what Wordsworth wrote, when afraid of being obliged to quit the Mount, and when he purchased the small adjoining property below, which still belongs to the family, may be quoted in proof of the principle affirmed. He refers to the old Roman roads in the district around Ambleside, no trace of which survives ; and then to the terrace constructed by himself, outside the Mount property to the west, and called in the house- hold "The Far Terrace," leading to "Nab Well." The massy ways, carried across these heights By Roman perseverance, are destroyed. AS INTERPRETED \)Y WORDSWORTH. 1 85 Or hidden under ground, like sleeping worms. How venture then to hope that Time will spare This humble Walk? Yet on the mountain's side A Poet's hand first shaped it ; and the step Of that same Bard — repeated to and fro At morn, at noon, and under moonlight skies Through the vicissitudes of many a year — F'orbade the weeds to creep o'er its gray line. No longer scattering to the heedless winds The vocal raptures of fresh poesy, Shall he frequent those precincts ; locked no more In earnest converse with beloved Friends, Here will he gather stores of ready bliss, As from the beds and borders of a garden Choice flowers are gathered I But, if power may spring Out of a farewell yearning — favoured more Than kindred wishes mated suitably With vain regrets — the Exile would consign This Walk, his loved possession, to the care Of those pure Minds that reverence the Muse. The following is part of the description of the house and grounds, with which the poet's nephew and biographer, the late Bishop of Lincoln, began his uncle's Mcmoiis^ written in 1850. It is graphi- cally told. Perhaps no one could have told it so well. "The house stands upon the sloping side of a rocky hill, called Nab Scar. It has a southern aspect. In front of it is a small semicircular area of gray gravel, fringed with shrubs and flowers, the house forming the diameter of a circle. From this area there is a descent by a few stone steps south- ward, and then a gentle ascent to a grassy mound. Here let us rest a little. At our back is the house ; in front, rather to the left in the horizon is Wansfell, on which the light of the evening sun rests, lieneath it, the blue smoke shows the place of the 1 86 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT town of Ambleside. In front is the lake of Winder- mere shining in the sun ; also in front, but more to the right, are the fells of Loughrigg, one of which throws up a massive solitary crag, on which the poet's imagination pleased itself to plant an imperial castle — Aerial rock, whose solitary brow From this low threshold daily meets the sight. " Looking to the right, in the garden, is a beau- tiful glade, overhung with rhododendrons in most luxuriant leaf and bloom. Near them is a tall ash tree, in which a thrush has sung for hours together during many years. Not far from it is a laburnum, in which the osier cage of the doves was hung. Below, to the west, is the vegetable garden, not parted off from the rest, but blended with it by parterres of flowers and shrubs. " Returning to the platform of gray gravel before the house, we pass under the shade of a fine sycamore, and ascend to the westward by fourteen steps of stones, about nine feet long, in the inter- stices of which grow the yellow flowering poppy and the wild geranium or poor robin, gay With his red stalks upon a sunny day; a favourite with the poet, as his verses show. The steps above mentioned lead to an up\va.Yd-s/opi/i^ terrace, about 250 feet long. On the right side it is shaded by laburnums, Portugal laurels, mountain ash, and fine walnut trees and cherries ; on the left it is flanked by a low stone wall, coped with rude slates, and covered with lichens, mosses, and wild flowers. The fern waves on the wall, and at its AS INTERPRETED V.Y WORDSWORTH. 1 87 base grow the wild strawberry and foxglove, licneath this wall, and parallel to it, on the left, is a /c7'e/ terrace, constructed by the poet, for the sake of a friend most dear to him and his, who, for the last twenty years of Mr. Wordsworth's life, was often a visitor and inmate of Rydal Mount.^ This terrace was a favourite resort of the poet, being more easy for pacing to and fro, when old age began to make him feel the acclivity of the other terrace to be toilsome. Both these terraces com- mand beautiful views of the vale of the Rothay, and the banks of the lake of Windermere. " The ascending terrace leads to an arbour, lined with fir cones, from which, passing onwards, on opening the latch-door, we have a view of the lower end of Rydal Lake, and of the long, wooded, and rocky hill of Loughrigg, beyond and above it. Close to this arbour door is a beautiful sycamore, with five Scotch firs in the fore ground, and a deep bay of wood, to the left and front, of oak, ash, holly, hazel, fir, and birch. The terrace path here winds gently off to the right, and becomes what was called by the poet and his household the Far Terrace, on the mountain side. . . . This terrace, after winding along in a serpentine line for about 150 feet, ends in a little gate, beyond which is a beautiful well of clear water, called the 'Nab Well,' which was to the poet of Rydal — a professed water-drinker — what the Bandusian fount was to the Sabine bard. " Returning to the arbour we descend, by a narrow flight of stone steps, to the kitchen garden, and passing through it southward we open a gate and enter a field sloping down to the valley, and called, from its owner's name, ' Dora's field.' Not ^ He refers to Miss Fenwick, to whom we owe the inestimable MS. notes on the poems. 1 88 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT far on the right on entering' the field is the stone bearing the inscription — In these fair vales hath many a Tree At Wordsworth's suit been spared ; And from the builder's hand this Stone, For some rude beauty of its own, Was rescued by the Bard ; So let it rest ; and time will come When here the tender-hearted May heave a gentle sigh for him, As one of the departed.^ " Near the same gate we see a pollard oak, on the top of whose trunk may yet be discerned some traces of the primrose which sheltered the wren's nest. . . . She who planned the mossy lodge. Mistrusting her evasive skill, Had to a primrose looked for aid. Her wishes to fulfil. " On the left of this gate we see another oak, and beneath it a pool, to which the gold and silver fish, once swdmming in a vase in the library of the house, were transported for the enjoyment of greater freedom. 1 To this poem the I. F.MS. appends the following note: '"Engraven during my absence in Italy upon a brass plate inserted in the stone." Prose Works ^ vol. iii. p. 183. The alarm felt about being "exiled" from Rydal Mount was not wholly groundless. Some tempor- ary misunderstanding had arisen between the inmates of the Mount and those of the Hall, Wordsworth, however, about this time, purchased the field below ihe Mount, on which he might have built a house, if so minded. The field is still in possession of his family" (Dr. Cradock). AS INTERPRETED l!V WORDSWORTH. 1 89 Removed in kindness from their glassy cell To the fresh waters of a living well; An elfin pool, so sheltered that its rest No winds disturb. "The house itself is a modest mansion of a sober hue, tinged with weather stains, with two tiers of five windows : on the right of these is a porch, and above, and to the right, are two other windows ; the highest looks out of what was the poet's bed- room. The gable end at the east, that first seen on entering the grounds from the road, presents on the ground-floor the window of the old hall or dining-room. The house is mantled over here and there with roses, and ivy, and jessamine, and \^irginia creeper. We may pause on the threshold of the porch at the hospitable '' Salvc^ inscribed on the pavement brought by a friend from Italy." ^ In the grounds of Rydal Mount every walk — the trees, the rocks, the terraces, the views on every side, whatever appeals to eye or ear — all suggest, in one way or another, the work and the personality of Wordsworth, the life he lived there, and what he has done for posterity. The whole place seems consecrate to genius, and to simple, elevated, unworldly thought. The special charm of the Mount recalls the verses of an Indian poet, in which he describes the retirement of the Yogi, or ascetic recluses of his time. The resemblance is, of course, partial, but the fascination of the place is strangely mingled with this Oriental picture, which comes down to us from the times of Chaucer. Where through the delight of its pleasantness, Sitting down one hardly wills to rise again, The feeling of unworldliness grows doubly strong When it is once beheld : 1 Memoirs, vol. i. pp. 19-27. IQO THE ENGLISH LAKE DLSTRICT A spot prepared by holy men, Helpful to calm delight, Exhilarating to the heart. And reassuring ; There studious thought leads on to studious thought, Experience doth wed the heart ; Such the exceeding power of its delightsomeness Perpetually : It detains him who would not be detained, The restless it compelleth to sit down. Its soothing power arouseth Unworldly thoughts.^ In speaking of the Mount, Wordsworth himself refers to the "beauty of the situation, its being backed and flanked by lofty fells, which bring the heavenly bodies to touch, as it were, the earth upon the niountain tops, while the prospect in front lies open to a length of level valley, the extended lake, and a terminating ridge of low hills." - In the Bishop of Lincoln's sketch the most characteristic poems referring to Rydal are alluded to. I may refer, in addition, to The Lament of Majy Quee7i oj Scots on the Eve of a New Year, which arose, the poet tells us, out of " a flash of moonlight that struck the ground when I was approaching the steps that lead from the garden at Rydal Mount to the front of the house."-^ The following is the first stanza — Smile of the Moon 1 for so I name That silent greeting from above ; ' From The Reti)-et7ient of the Yogi, by Dnyanoba. Translated by the Rev. J. Murray Mitchell, D.D. M.F.MS. ' ^Ibid. AS INTKRPRETED BY WORDSWORTH. I9I A gentle flash of light that came From her whom drooping captives love ; Or art thou of still higher birth ? Thou that didst part the clouds of earth, My torpor to reprove I The sonnet on the setting sun going down behind Loughrigg Fell was suggested in front of the Mount. I watch, and long have watched, with calm regret Yon slowly-sinking star — immortal Sire (So might he seem) of all the glittering quire I Blue ether still surrounds him— yet — and yet ; But now the horizon's rocky parapet Is reached, where forfeiting his bright attire. He burns — transmuted to a dusky fire — Then pays submissively the appointed debt To the flying moments, and is seen no more. Angels and gods I We struggle with our fate. While health, power, glory, from their height decline Depressed I and then extinguished; and our state. In this, how different, lost Star, from thine, That not to-morrow shall our beams restore I With the summer-house, between the two ter- races is associated the poem entitled, C<9;//'r«j-/.- the Parrot and the Wren. The wren Avas one that haunted this summer-house for many years. I quote three stanzas — This moss-lined shed, green, soft, and dry. Harbours a self-contented Wren, Not shunning man's abode, though shy. 192 THE ENC;i,ISH LAKE DISTRICT Strange places, coverts, iinendeared, She never tried ; the very nest In \\hich this Child of Spring was reared, Is warmed, thro' winter, by her feathery breast. To the bleak winds she sometimes gives A slender unexpected strain ; Proof that the hermitess still lives, Though she appear not, and be sought in vain. Within the house itself, the place where The Cuckoo clock — the gift of Miss Fenwick— stood in the staircase, suggests the poem of that name. Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight. By a sure voice that can most sweetly tell. How far-off yet a glimpse of morning light. And if to lure the truant back be well. Better provide thee with a Cuckoo-clock For service hung behind thy chamber-door ; And in due time the soft spontaneous shock The double note, as if with living power. Will to composure lead — or make thee blithe as bird in iDower. List, Cuckoo — Cuckoo I oft tho' tempests howl, Or nipping frost remind thee trees are bare, How cattle pine, and droop the shivering fowl. Thy spirits will seem to feed on balmy air ; I speak with knowledge— by that Voice beguiled Thou wilt salute old memories as they throng Into thy heart ; and fancies, running wild Through fresh green fields, and budding groves among. Will make thee happy, happy as a child ; Of sunshine wilt thou think, and flowers, and song. And breathe as in a world where nothing can go wrong AS IMERPRKTED BY WORDSWORTH. 193 The room occupied by Miss Wordsworth, the poet's sister, recalls the lines on The Redbreast^ suggested to him '' in a Westmoreland cottage." Fart of Wordsworth's note to this poem is to the following effect: " My sister being confined to her room by sickness, a redbreast, without being caged, took up its abode with her, and at nights used to perch upon a nail from which a picture had hung. It used to sing and fan her face with its wings in a manner that was very touching." Heart-pleased we smile upon the Bird If seen, and with like pleasure stirred Commend him, when he's only heard But small and fugitive our gain Compared with hers who long hath lain. With languid limbs and patient head Reposing on a lone sick-bed ; Wliere now, she daily hears a strain That cheats her of too busy cares. Eases her pain, and helps her prayers. And who but this dear Bird beguiled The fever of that pale-faced Child ; Now cooling, with his passing wing. Her forehead, like a breeze of spring : Recalling now, with descant soft Shed round her pillow from aloft. Sweet thoughts of angels hovering nigh, And the invisible sympathy. Thrice happy Creature 1 in all lands Nurtured by hospitable hands. As the biography tells us, the tall ash tree (in which the thrush used to sing) with the laburnum near (in which the osier cage with the doves was hung), grew on the v.-est side of the Mount. Both are gone. The ash is represented in the vignette p 194 THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT sketch of the house, prefixed to the third chapter of the Memoirs. In "Dora's field'" the fine oak- tree, beneath which is the pool to which the gold and siher fishes were transferred, still stands ; and in the other tree, In a green covert, where, from out The forehead of a pollard oak. The leafy antlers sprout, where the " wren's nest " was built, wrens still occasionally build ; and primroses grow on the ground beneath. It is a curious link with the past. How many generations of wrens have there broken the ^^