20th. Coleridge dined with us. We went more than half way home with him in the evening. A very cold evening, but clear. The spring seemingly very little advanced. No green trees, only the hedges are budding, and looking very lovely.
21st. We drank tea at Coleridge’s. A quiet shower of snow was in the air during more than half our walk. At our return the sky partially shaded with clouds. The horned moon was set. Startled two night birds from the great elm tree.
22nd. I spent the morning in starching and hanging out linen; walked through the wood in the evening, very cold.
23rd. Coleridge dined with us. He brought his ballad finished. We walked with him to the miner’s house. A beautiful evening, very starry, the horned moon.
24th. Coleridge, the Chesters, and Ellen Crewkshank called. We walked with them through the wood. Went in the evening into the Coombe to get eggs; returned through the wood, and walked in the park. A duller night than last night: a sort of white shade over the blue sky. The stars dim. The spring continues to advance very slowly, no green trees, the hedges leafless; nothing green but the brambles that still retain their old leaves, the evergreens and the palms, which indeed are not absolutely green. Some brambles I observed to-day budding afresh, and those have shed their old leaves. The crooked arm of the old oak tree points upwards to the moon.
25th. Walked to Coleridge’s after tea. Arrived at home at one o’clock. The night cloudy but not dark.
26th. Went to meet Wedgwood at Coleridge’s after dinner. Reached home at half-past twelve, a fine moonlight night; half moon.
27th. Dined at Poole’s. Arrived at home a little after twelve, a partially cloudy, but light night, very cold.
28th. Hung out the linen.
29th. Coleridge dined with us.
30th. Walked I know not where.
31st. Walked.
April 1st. Walked by moonlight.
2nd. A very high wind. Coleridge came to avoid the smoke; stayed all night. We walked in the wood, and sat under the trees. The half of the wood perfectly still, while the wind was making a loud noise behind us. The still trees only gently bowed their heads, as if listening to the wind. The hollies in the thick wood unshaken by the blast; only, when it came with a greater force, shaken by the rain drops falling from the bare oaks above.
3rd. Walked to Grookham, with Coleridge and William, to make the appeal. Left William there, and parted with Coleridge at the top of the hill. A very stormy afternoon …
4th. Walked to the sea-side in the afternoon. A great commotion in the air, but the sea neither grand nor beautiful. A violent shower in returning. Sheltered under some fir trees at Potsdam.
5th. Coleridge came to dinner. William and I walked in the wood in the morning. I fetched eggs from the Coombe.
6th. Went a part of the way home with Coleridge. A pleasant warm morning, but a showery day. Walked a short distance up the lesser Coombe, with an intention of going to the source of the brook, but the evening closing in, cold prevented us. The Spring still advancing very slowly. The horse-chestnuts budding, and the hedgerows beginning to look green, but nothing fully expanded.
7th. Walked before dinner up the Coombe, to the source of the brook, and came home by the tops of the hills; a showery morning, at the hill-tops; the view opened upon us very grand.
8th. Easter Sunday. Walked in the morning in the wood, and half way to Stowey; found the air at first oppressively warm, afterwards very pleasant.
9th. Walked to Stowey, a fine air in going, but very hot in returning. The sloe in blossom, the hawthorns green, the larches in the park changed from black to green in two or three days. Met Coleridge in returning.
10th. I was hanging out linen in the evening. We walked to Holford. I turned off to the baker’s, and walked beyond Woodlands, expecting to meet William, met him on the hill; a close warm evening … in bloom.
11th. In the wood in the morning, walked to the top of the hill, then I went down into the wood. A pleasant evening, a fine air, the grass in the park becoming green, many trees green in the dell.
12th. Walked in the morning in the wood. In the evening up the Coombe, fine walk. The Spring advances rapidly, multitudes of primroses, dog-violets, periwinkles, stitchwort.
13th. Walked in the wood in the morning. In the evening went to Stowey. I staid with Mr(s) Coleridge. Wm went to Poole’s. Supped with Mr(s) Coleridge.
14th. Walked in the wood in the morning. The evening very stormy so we staid within doors. Mary Wollstonecraft’s life, etc., came.
15th. Set forward after breakfast to Crookham, and returned to dinner at three o’clock. A fine cloudy morning. Walked about the squire’s grounds. Quaint waterfalls about, where Nature was very successfully striving to make beautiful what art had deformed — ruins, hermitages, &c, &c. In spite of all these things, the dell romantic and beautiful, though everywhere planted with unnaturalised trees. Happily we cannot shape the huge hills, or carve out the valleys according to our fancy.
16th. New moon. William walked in the wood in the morning. I neglected to follow him. We walked in the park in the evening …
17th. Walked in the wood in the morning. In the evening upon the hill. Cowslips plentiful.
18th. Walked in the wood, a fine sunny morning, met Coleridge returned from his brother’s. He dined with us. We drank tea, and then walked with him nearly to Stowey …
19th….
20th. Walked in the evening up the hill dividing the Coombes. Came home the Crookham way, by the thorn, and the little muddy pond. Nine o’clock at our return. William all the morning engaged in wearisome composition. The moon crescent; ‘Peter Bell’ begun.
21st, 22nd, 23rd….
24th. Walked a considerable time in the wood. Sat under the trees, in the evening walked on the top of the hill, found Coleridge on our return and walked with him towards Stowey.
25th. Coleridge drank tea, walked with him to Stowey.
26th. William went to have his picture taken. I walked with him. Dined at home. Coleridge and he drank tea.
27th. Coleridge breakfasted and drank tea, strolled in the wood in the morning, went with him in the evening through the wood, afterwards walked on the hills: the moon, a many-coloured sea and sky.
28th, Saturday. A very fine morning, warm weather all the week.
May 6th, Sunday. Expected the painter, and Coleridge. A rainy morning — very pleasant in the evening. Met Coleridge as we were walking out. Went with him to Stowey; heard the nightingale; saw a glow-worm.
7th. Walked in the wood in the morning. In the evening, to Stowey with Coleridge who called.
8th. Coleridge dined, went in the afternoon to tea at Stowey. A pleasant walk home.
9th…. Wrote to Coleridge.
Wednesday, 16th. Coleridge, William, and myself set forward to the Chedder rocks; slept at Bridgewater.
22nd (17th) Thursday. Walked to Chedder. Slept at Cross.
THE GRASMERE JOURNAL, 1800-1803
Dorothy Wordsworth’s Grasmere Journal was first published in 1897, edited by William Angus Knight. The journal eloquently describes her day-to-day life in the Lake District, detailing long walks that she and her brother took through the countryside, as well as providing intriguing portraits of literary figures, including Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Sir Walter Scott, Charles Lamb and Robert Southey. The Grasmere Journal reveals how vital Dorothy was to her brother’s success. It is clear that William relied on his sister’s detailed accounts of nature scenes when writing poems, often borrowing freely from her journals.
As she never sought a public literary career herself, the majority of Dorothy’s work was published posthumously, at a time when literary critics were re-examining women’s role in literature. The success of the Grasmere Journal led to a renewed interest in Dorothy Wordsworth and her influence on the Romantic poets of English literature.
Grasmere, the beautiful village in the Lake District, Cumbria
CONTENTS
PART I. 14 MAY - 22 DECEMBER, 1800
PART II. 10 OCTOBER 1801 - 14 FEBRUARY, 1802
PART III. 14 FEBRUARY 1802 - 2 MAY, 1802
PART IV. 4 MAY 1802 - 16 JANUARY, 1803
The only surviving image of Dorothy Wordsworth
PART I. 14 MAY - 22 DECEMBER, 1800
May 14 1800 (Wednesday). Wm & John set off into Yorkshire after dinner at ½ past 2 o’clock — cold pork in their pockets. I left them at the turning of the Low-wood bay under the trees. My heart was so full that I could hardly speak to W when I gave him a farewell kiss. I sate a long time upon a stone at the margin of the lake, & after a flood of tears my heart was easier. The lake looked to me I knew not why dull and melancholy, the weltering on the shores seemed a heavy sound. I walked as long as I could amongst the stones of the shore. The wood rich in flowers. A beautiful yellow, palish yellow flower, that looked thick round & double, & smelt very sweet — I supposed it was a ranunculus — Crowfoot, the grassy-leaved Rabbit-toothed white flower, strawberries, Geranium — scentless violet, anemones two kinds, orchises, primroses. The heckberry very beautiful as a low shrub. The crab coming out. Met a blind man driving a very large beautiful Bull & a cow — he walked with two sticks. Came home by Clappersgate. The valley very green, many sweet views up to Rydale head when I could juggle away the fine houses, but they disturbed me even more than when I have been happier — one beautiful view of the Bridge, without Sir Michaels. Sate down very often, tho’ it was cold. I resolved to write a journal of the time till W & J return, & I set about keeping my resolve because I will not quarrel with myself, & because I shall give Wm Pleasure by it when he comes home again. At Rydale a woman of the village, stout & well-dressed, begged a halfpenny — she had never she said done it before — but these hard times! — Arrived at home with a bad head-ach, set some slips of privett. The evening cold had a fire — my face now flame-coloured. It is nine o’clock, I shall soon go to bed. A young woman begged at the door — she had come from Manchester on Sunday morn with two shillings & a slip of paper which she supposed a Bank note — it was a cheat. She had buried her husband & three children within a year & a half — All in one grave — burying very dear — paupers all put in one place — 20 shillings paid for as much ground as will bury a man — a grave stone to be put over it or the right will be lost — 11/6 each time the ground is opened. Oh! that I had a letter from William!
May 15 Thursday. A coldish dull morning — hoed the first row of peas, weeded &c &c — sat hard to mending till evening. The rain which had threatened all day came on just when I was going to walk —
Friday morning (16th). Warm & mild after a fine night of rain. Transplanted raddishes after breakfast. Walked to Mr Gells with the Books — gathered mosses & plants. The woods extremely beautiful with all autumnal variety & softness — I carried a basket for mosses, & gathered some wild plants — Oh! that we had a book of botany — all flowers now are gay & deliciously sweet. The primrose still pre-eminent among the later flowers of the spring. Foxgloves very tall — with their heads budding. I went forward round the lake at the foot of Loughrigg fell — I was much amused with the business of a pair of stone chats. Their restless voices as they skimmed along the water following each other their shadows under them, & their returning back to the stones on the shore, chirping with the same unwearied voice. Could not cross the water so I went round by the stepping stones. The morning clear but cloudy, that is the hills were not overhung by mists. After dinner Aggy weeded onions & carrots — I helped for a little — wrote to Mary Hutchinson — washed my head — worked. After tea went to Ambleside — a pleasant cool but not cold evening. Rydale was very beautiful with spear-shaped streaks of polished steel. No letters! — only one newspaper. I returned by Clappersgate. Grasmere was very solemn in the last glimpse of twilight it calls home the heart to quietness. I had been very melancholy in my walk back. I had many of my saddest thoughts & I could not keep the tears within me. But when I came to Grasmere I felt that it did me good. I finished my letter to MH. — ate hasty pudding, & went to bed. As I was going out in the morning I met a half crazy old man. He shewed me a pincushion, & begged a pin, afterwards a halfpenny. He began in a kind of indistinct voice in this manner ‘Matthew Jobson’s lost a cow. Tom Nichol has two good horses strained — Jim Jones’s cow’s brokken her horn, &c &c — —’He went into Aggys & persuaded her to give him some whey & let him boil some porridge. She declares he ate two quarts.
Saturday (17th). Incessant rain from morning till night. T. Ashburner brought us coals. Worked hard & Read Midsummer night’s dream, Ballads — sauntered a little in the garden. The Skobby sate quietly in its nest rocked by the winds & beaten by the rain.
Sunday 19th (18th). Went to church, slight showers, a cold air. The mountains from this window look much greener & I think the valley is more green than ever. The corn begins to shew itself. The ashes are still bare. Went part of the way home with Miss Simpson —— A little girl from Coniston came to beg. She had lain out all night — her step-mother had turn’d her out of doors. Her father could not stay at home ‘She flights so’. Walked to Ambleside in the evening round the lake. The prospect exceeding beautiful from loughrigg fell. It was so green, that no eye could be weary of reposing upon it. The most beautiful situation for a house in the field next to Mr Benson’s. It threatened rain all the evening but was mild & pleasant. I was overtaken by 2 Cumberland people on the other side of Rydale who complimented me upon my walking. They were going to sell cloth, & odd things which they make themselves in Hawkshead & the neighbourhood. The post was not arrived so I walked thro the town, past Mrs Taylors, & met him. Letters from Coleridge & Cottle — John Fisher overtook me on the other side of Rydale — he talked much about the alteration in the times, & observed that in a short time there would be only two ranks of people, the very rich & the very poor, for those who have small estates says he are forced to sell, & all the land goes into one hand. Did not reach home till 10 o clock.
Monday (19th). Sauntered a good deal in the garden, bound carpets, mended old clothes. Read Timon of Athens. Dried linen — Molly weeded the turnips, John stuck the peas. We had not much sunshine or wind but no rain till about 7 o’clock when we had a slight shower just after I had set out upon my walk. I did not return but walked up into the Black quarter. I sauntered a long time among the rocks above the church. The most delightful situation possible for a cottage commanding two distinct views of the vale & of the lake, is among those rocks — I strolled on, gathered mosses, &c. The quietness & still seclusion of the valley affected me even to producing the deepest melancholy — I forced myself from it. The wind rose before I went to bed. No rain — Dodwell & Wilkinson called in my absence.
Tuesday Morning (20th). A fine mild rain — after Breakfast the sky cleared & before the clouds passed from the hill, I went to Ambleside — It was a sweet morning — Everything green & overflowing with life, & the streams making a perpetual song with the thrushes & all little birds, not forgetting the Stone chats. The post was not come in — I walked as far as Windermere & met him there. No letters! no papers. Came home by Clappersgate — I was sadly tired, ate a hasty dinner & had a bad head-ach, went to bed & slept at least 2 hours. Rain came on in the Evening — Molly washing.
Wednesday (21st). Went often to spread the linen which was bleaching — a rainy day & very wet night.
Thursday (22nd) A very fine day with showers — dried the linen & starched Drank tea at Mr Simpsons. Brought down Batchelors Buttons (Rock Ranunculus) & other plants — went part of the way back. A showery, mild evening — all the peas up.
Friday 23rd. Ironing till tea time. So heavy a rain that I could not go for letters — put by the linen, mended stockings &c.
Saturday May 24th. Walked in the morning to Ambleside. I found a letter from Wm & from Mary Hutchinson & Douglass. Returned on the other side of the lakes — wrote to William after dinner — nailed up the beds worked in the garden — Sate in the evening under the trees. I went to bed soon with a bad head-ache — a fine day.
; Sunday (25th). A very fine warm day — had no fire. Read Macbeth in the morning — sate under the trees after dinner. Miss Simpson came just as I was going out & she sate with me. I wrote to my Brother Christopher, & sent John Fisher to Ambleside after tea. Miss Simpson & I walked to the foot of the lake — her Brother met us. I went with them nearly home & on my return found a letter from Coleridge & from Charles Lloyd & three papers.
Monday May 26. A very fine morning, worked in the garden till after 10 when old Mr Simpson came & talked to me till after 12. Molly weeding. Wrote letters to J H, Coleridge, C LI. & W. I walked towards Rydale & turned aside at my favorite field. The air & the lake were still — one cottage light in the vale, had so much of day left that I could distinguish objects, the woods; trees & houses. Two or three different kinds of Birds sang at intervals on the opposite shore. I sate till I could hardly drag myself away I grew so sad. ‘When pleasant thoughts &c—’
Tuesday 27th. I walked to Ambleside with letters — met the post before I reached Mr Partridges, one paper, only a letter for Coleridge — I expected a letter from Wm. It was a sweet morning, the ashes in the valleys nearly in full leaf but still to be distinguished, quite bare on the higher grounds. I was warm in returning, & becoming cold with sitting in the house — I had a bad head-ach — went to bed after dinner, & lay till after 5 — not well after tea. I worked in the garden, but did not walk further. A delightful evening before the Sun set but afterwards it grew colder. Mended stockings &c.
Wednesday (28th). In the morning walked up to the rocks above Jenny Dockeray’s — sate a long time upon the grass the prospect divinely beautiful. If I had three hundred pounds & could afford to have a bad interest for my money I would buy that estate, & we would build a cottage there to end our days in — I went into her garden & got white & yellow lilies, periwinkle, &c, which I planted. Sate under the trees with my work — no fire in the morning. Worked till between 7 & 8, & then watered the garden, & was about to go up to Mr Simpson’s, when Miss S & her visitors passed the door. I went home with them, a beautiful evening the crescent moon hanging above helm crag.
Delphi Complete Works of William Wordsworth Page 471