Delphi Complete Works of William Wordsworth

by William Wordsworth

  Thursday 17th. William had slept well. I took castor oil & lay in bed till 12 o clock. William injured himself with working a little. — When I got up we sate in the orchard, a sweet mild day. Miss Hudson called. I went with her to the top of the hill. When I came home I found William at work, attempting to alter a stanza in the poem on our going for Mary which I convinced him did not need altering — We sate in the house after dinner. In the evening walked on our favorite path, a short letter from Coleridge. William added a little to the Ode he is writing.

  Friday June 18th. When we were sitting after Breakfast, William about to shave Luff came in. It was a sweet morning he had rode over the Fells — he brought news about Lord Lowther’s intention to pay all debts &c & a letter from Mr Clarkson. He saw our garden was astonished at the Scarlet Beans &c &c. When he was gone we wrote to Coleridge M H, & my Br Rd about the affair. Wm determined to go to Eusemere on Monday. In the afternoon we walked to Rydale with our letters found no letters there. A sweet evening, I had a woful headache & was ill in stomach from agitation of mind — went to bed at nine o’clock but did not sleep till late.

  Saturday 19th. The Swallows were very busy under my window this morning — I slept pretty well, but William has got no sleep. It is after 11 & he is still in bed — a fine morning — Coleridge when he was last here, told us that for many years there being no quaker meeting held at Keswick, a single old quaker woman used to go regularly alone every Sunday, to attend the meeting-house & there used to sit & perform her worship, alone, in that beautiful place among those fir-trees, in that spacious vale, under the great mountain Skiddaw!!! Poor old Willy — we never pass by his grave close to the churchyard gate without thinking of him & having his figure brought back to our minds. He formerly was an ostler at Hawkshead having spent a little estate. In his old age he was boarded or as they say let by the parish. A Boy of the house that hired him was riding one morning pretty briskly beside John Fisher’s, ‘Hallo! has aught particular happened’, said John to the Boy ‘Nay naught at aw nobbut auld Willy’s dead.’ He was going to order the passing bell to be told. — On Thursday morning Miss Hudson of Workington called. She said ‘O! I love flowers! I sow flowers in the Parks several miles from home & my mother & I visit them & watch them how they grow.’ This may show that Botanists may be often deceived when they find rare flowers growing far from houses. This was a very ordinary young woman, such as in any town in the North of England one may find a score. I sate up a while after William — he then called me down to him. (I was writing to Mary H.) I read Churchills Rosciad returned again to my writing & did not go to bed till he called to me. The shutters were closed, but I heard the Birds singing. There was our own Thrush shouting with an impatient shout — so it sounded to me. The morning was still, the twittering of the little Birds was very gloomy. The owls had hooted a ¼ of an hour before. Now the cocks were crowing. It was near daylight. I put out my candle & went to bed. In a little time I thought I heard William snoring, so I composed myself to sleep — Charles Lloyd called—’Smiling at my sweet Brother’.

  Sunday 20th. He had slept better than I could have expected but he was far from well all day; we were in the orchard a great part of the morning. After tea we walked upon our own path for a long time. We talked sweetly together about the disposal of our riches. We lay upon the sloping Turf. Earth & sky were so lovely that they melted our very hearts. The sky to the north was of a chastened yet rich yellow fading into pale blue & streaked & scattered over with steady islands of purple melting away into shades of pink. It made my heart almost feel like a vision to me. We afterwards took our Cloaks & sate in the orchard. Mr & Miss Simpson called. We told them of our expected good fortune. We were astonished & somewhat hurt to see how coldly Mr Simpson received it — Miss S seemed very glad. We went into the house when they left us, & Wm went to bed. I sate up about an hour, he then called me to talk to him — he could not fall asleep. I wrote to Montagu.

  Monday 21st. William was obliged to be in Bed late, he had slept so miserably. It was a very fine morning, but as we did not leave home till 12 o’clock, it was very hot. I parted from my Beloved in the Green Lane above the Blacksmiths, then went to dinner at Mr Simpsons. We walked afterwards in the garden. Betty Towers & her son & daughter came to tea. The little Lad is 4 years old almost as little a thing as Hartley & as sharp too, they say, but I saw nothing of this, being a stranger, except in his bonny eyes, which had such a sweet brightness in them when any thing was said to him that made him ashamed & draw his chin into his neck, while he sent his eyes upwards to look at you. His Mother is a delicate woman. She said she thought that both she & her husband were so tender in their health that they must be obliged to sell their Land. Speaking of old Jim Jackson she said ‘they might have looked up with the best in Grasmere if they had but been careful.’ They began with a clear Estate & had never had but one child, he to be sure is a half-wit—’How did they get through with their money?’ ‘Why in eating & drinking.’ The wife would make tea 4 or 5 times in a day & ‘sec folks for sugar!’ Then she would have nea Teapot but she would take the water out of a Brass pan on the fire & pour it on to the Tea in a quart pot. This all for herself, for she boiled the tea leaves always for her Husband & their son. I brought plants home, sunflowers, & planted them.

  Tuesday Morning (22nd). I had my breakfast in bed, being not quite well — I then walked to Rydale, I waited long for the post lying in the field & looking at the distant mountains, — looking & listening to the River. I met the post. Letters from Montagu & Rd — I hurried back, forwarded these to William & wrote to Montagu. When I came home I wrote to my Br Christopher. I could settle to nothing. Molly washed & glazed the Curtains. I read the ‘Midsummers Night’s dream’ & began ‘As You Like It’. Miss Simpson called — Tamar brought me some Berries. I resolved to go to William & for that purpose John Fisher promised to go over the Fells with me. Miss Simpson ate pie, & then left me reading Letters from Mary & Coleridge. The news came that a house was taken for Betsy.

  Aggy Fisher was talking with me on Monday morning 21st June about her son. She went on — Old Mary Watson was at Goan’s there when the Child died. I had never seen her before since her son was drowned last summer, ‘we were all in trouble, & trouble opens folks’ hearts’. She began to tell about her daughter that’s married to Leonard Holmes, how now that sickness is come upon him they are breaking down & failing in the world. Debts are coming in every day & he can do nothing, & they fret & jar together. One day he came riding over to Grasmere — I wondered what was the matter & I resolved to speak to him when he came back — He was as pale as a ghost & he did not suffer the horse to gang quicker than a snail could crawl. He had come over in a trick of passion to auld Mary to tell her she might take her own again, her Daughter & the Bairns. Mary replied ‘nobly (said Aggy) that she would not part man & wife but that all should come together, & she would keep them while she had anything’. Old Mary went to see them at Ambleside afterwards & he begged her pardon. Aggy observed that they would never have known this sorrow if it had pleased God to take him off suddenly.

  I wrote to Mary H. & put up a parcel for Coleridge. The LB arrived. I went to bed at ½ past 11.

  Wednesday June 23rd. I slept till ½ past 3 o clock — called Molly before 4 & had got myself dressed & breakfasted before 5, but it rained & I went to bed again. It is now 20 minutes past 10, a sunshiny morning — I walked to the top of the hill & sate under a wall near John’s Grove facing the sun. I read a scene or 2 in As You Like It. I met Charles Lloyd & old Mr Lloyd was upstairs — Mrs LI had been to meet me. I wrote a line to Wm by the Lloyds. Coleridge & Leslie came just as I had lain down after dinner. C brought me Wm’s letter. He had got well to Eusemere. C & I accompanied Leslie to the Boat House. It was a sullen coldish Evening, no sunshine, but after we had parted from Leslie a light came out suddenly that repaid us for all. It fell only upon one hill, & the island, but it arrayed the grass & trees in gem-like brightness. I cooked C his supper. We sate up till one
o clock.

  Thursday June 24th. I went with C halfway up the Rays. It was a cool morning. I dined at Mr Simpsons & helped Aggy Fleming to quilt a petticoat. Miss Simpson came with me after tea round by the White Bridge. I ground paint when I reached home, & was tired. Wm came in just when Molly had left me. It was a mild rainy Evening he was cool & fresh, & smelt sweetly — his clothes were wet. We sate together talking till the first dawning of Day — a happy time — he was well & not much tired. He thought I looked well too.

  Friday June 25th. Wm had not fallen asleep till after 3 o’clock but he slept tolerably. Miss Simpson came to colour the Rooms. I began with white-washing the ceiling. I worked with them (William was very busy) till dinner time but after dinner I went to bed & fell asleep. When I rose I went just before tea into the Garden, I looked up at my Swallow’s nest & it was gone. It had fallen down. Poor little creatures they could not themselves be more distressed than I was I went upstairs to look at the Ruins. They lay in a large heap upon the window ledge; these Swallows had been ten days employed in building this nest, & it seemed to be almost finished — I had watched them early in the morning, in the day many & many a time & in the evenings when it was almost dark I had seen them sitting together side by side in their unfinished nest both morning & night. When they first came about the window they used to hang against the panes, with their white Bellies & their forked tails looking like fish, but then they fluttered & sang their own little twittering song. As soon as the nest was broad enough, a sort of ledge for them they sate both mornings & evenings, but they did not pass the night there. I watched them one morning when William was at Eusemere, for more than an hour. Every now & then there was a feeling motion in their wings a sort of tremulousness & they sang a low song to one another.

  (Tuesday 29th June.)… that they would not call here. I was going to tea. It is an uncertain day, sunshine showers & wind. It is now 8 o’clock I will go & see if my swallows are on their nest. Yes! there they are side by side both looking down into the garden. I have been out on purpose to see their faces. I knew by looking at the window that they were there. Young George Mackareth is come down from London. Molly says ‘did not get him asked if he had got his laal green purse yet.’ When he went away he went round to see aw’t neighbours & some gave him 6d, some a shilling, & I have heard his mother say t’laal green purse was never out of his hand. I wrote to M.H. my Br Chrise.er & Miss Griffith then went to bed in the sitting room. C & Wm came in at about ½ past 11 — They talked till after 12.

  Wednesday 30 June. William slept ill, his head terribly bad. We walked part of the way up the Rays with Coleridge, a threatening windy coldish day. We did not go with C far up the Rays but sate down a few minutes together before we parted. I was not very well. I was inclined to go to bed when we reached home, but Wm persuaded me to have tea instead. We met an old man between the Potters shed & Lewthwaites. He wore a rusty but untorn hat, an excellent blue coat, waistcoat & Breeches & good mottled worsted stockings — his beard was very thick & grey of a fortnight’s growth, we guessed, it was a regular beard like grey plush. His Bundle contained Sheffield wares. William said to him after he had asked him what his business was ‘You are a very old man?’ ‘Aye, I am 83.’ I joined in ‘Have you any children’ Children yes plenty. I have Children & grand-children & great grandchildren. ‘have a great grand daughter a fine Lass 13 years old.’ I then said What, they take care of you — he replied half offended Thank God I can take care of myself. He said he had been a servant of the Marquis of Granby—’O he was a good Man he’s in heaven — I hope he is.’ He then told us how he shot himself at Bath, that he was with him in Germany & travelled with him everywhere, ‘he was a famous Boxer, sir’ & then he told us a story of his fighting with his Farmer. He used always to call me Hard & Sharp. Then every now & then he broke out, ‘He was a good Man! When we were travelling he never asked at the public-houses’ as it might be there (pointing to the Swan) what we were to pay but he would put his hand into his pocket & give them what he liked & when he came out of the house he would say ‘Now they would have charged me a shilling or 10d God help them poor creatures!’ I asked him again about his Children how many he had. Says he ‘cannot tell you’ (I suppose he confounded Children & Grand children together). ‘I have one Daughter that keeps a boarding school at Skipton in Craven. She teaches flowering & marking, & another that keeps a Boarding school at Ingleton. I brought up my family under the Marquis.’ He was familiar with all parts of Yorkshire. He asked us where we lived, ‘At Grasmere.’ ‘The bonniest Dale in all England!’ says the old man. I bought a pair of scissors of him, & we sate together by the Road-side. When we parted I tried to lift his bundle, & it was almost more than I could do. We got tea & I was somewhat better. After tea I wrote to Coleridge & closed up my letter to MH. We went soon to bed. A weight of Children a poor man’s blessing.

  Thursday July 1st. A very rainy Day. We did not go out at all, till evening. I lay down after dinner, but first we sate quietly together by the fire. In the evening we took my cloak & walked first to the top of White Moss, then round by the White Bridge & up again beyond Mr Olliffs. We had a nice walk, & afterwards sate by a nice snug fire & William read Spenser & I read ‘As you like it’. The saddle bags came from Keswick with a l(ette)r from M.H. & from C, & Wilkinson’s drawings, but no letter from Richard.

  Friday July 2nd. A very rainy morning there was a gleam of fair weather & we thought of walking into Easedale. Molly began to prepare the Linen for putting out — But it rained worse than ever. In the Evening we walked up to the view of Rydale, & afterwards towards Mr King’s. I left William & wrote a short letter to M.H. & to Coleridge & transcribed the alterations in the Leech gatherer.

  Saturday July 3rd. I breakfasted in bed, being not very well. Aggy Ashburner helped Molly with the Linen. I made veal & Gooseberry pies. It was very cold. Thomas Ashburner went for coals for us. There was snow upon the mountain tops. Letters from MH. & Annette — A’s letter sent from G. Hill — written at Blois 23rd.

  Sunday July 4th. Cold & rain & very dark. I was sick & ill had been made sleepless by letters. I lay in bed till 4 o clock. When I rose I was very far from well but I grew better after tea. William walked out a little I did not. We sate at the window together. It came on a terribly wet night. Wm finished the Leech gatherer today.

  Monday 4 July (5th). A very sweet morning. William stayed some time in the orchard. I went to him there it was a beautiful morning. I copied out the L(eech) G(atherer) for Coleridge & for us. Wrote to Annette Mrs Clarkson, MH, & Coleridge. It came on a heavy rain & we could not go to Dove Nest as we had intended though we had sent Molly for the horse & it was come. The Roses in the garden are fretted & battered & quite spoiled the honey suckle though in its glory is sadly teazed. The peas are beaten down. The Scarlet Beans want sticking. The garden is overrun with weeds.

  Tuesday 5th July (6th). It was a very rainy day but in the afternoon it cleared up a little & we set off towards Rydale to go for letters. The Rain met us at the top of the White Moss & it came on very heavily afterwards. It drove past Nab Scar in a substantial shape, as if going Grasmere-wards as fast as it could go. We stopped at Willy Parks & borrowed a plaid. I rested a little while till the Rain seemed passing away & then I went to meet William. I met him near Rydale with a letter from Christopher. We had a pleasant but very rainy walk home. A letter came from Mary in the morning & in the evening one from Coleridge by Fletcher. The swallows have completed their beautiful nest. I baked bread & pies.

  Wednesday 6th (7th). A very fine day. William had slept ill so he lay in bed till 11 o clock. I wrote to John, ironed the Linen, packed up, lay in the orchard all the afternoon. In the morning Wm nailed up the trees while I was ironing. We lay sweetly in the Orchard the well is beautiful the Orchard full of Foxgloves the honeysuckle beautiful — plenty of roses but they are battered. Wrote to Molly Ritson & Coleridge. Walked on the White Moss — glow-worms — well for them children are in bed when they shine.

&nbs
p; Thursday 7th (8th). A rainy morning. I paid Thomas Ashburner, & Frank Baty. When I was coming home, a post Chaise passed with a little girl behind in a patched ragged red cloak. The child & cloak — Alice Fells own self. We sate in tranquility together by the fire in the morning, in the afternoon after we had talked a little, Wm fell asleep I read the Winter’s Tale. Then I went to bed but did not sleep. The Swallows stole in and out of their nest, & sate there whiles quite still, whiles they sung low for 2 minutes or more at a time just like a muffled Robin. William was looking at the Pedlar when I got up — he arranged it, & after tea I wrote it out — 280 lines. In the meantime the evening being fine he carried his coat to the Tailors & went to George Mackareth’s to engage the horse. He came in to me at about ½ past nine pressing me to go out; he had got letters which we were to read out of doors — I was rather unwilling, fearing I could not see to read the letters, but I saw well enough. One was from MH a very tender affecting letter, another from Sara to C, from C to us, & from my Br Rd. The moon was behind. William hurried me out in hopes that I should see her. We walked first to the top of the hill to see Rydale. It was dark & dull but our own vale was very solemn, the shape of helm crag was quite distinct, though black. We walked backwards & forwards on the White Moss path there was a sky-like white brightness on the Lake. The Wyke Cottage Light at the foot of Silver How. Glowworms out, but not so numerous as last night — O beautiful place! — Dear Mary William — The horse is come Friday morning, so I must give over. William is eating his Broth — I must prepare to go — The Swallows I must leave them the well the garden the Roses all — Dear creatures!! they sang last night after I was in bed — seemed to be singing to one another, just before they settled to rest for the night. Well I must go — Farewell. —— —