Wordsworthian Pilgrimage

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In the morning, we had writing class and packed our lunches for our Wordsworthian pilgrimage. But first we stopped by this little shop outside the graveyard that sells the most amazing gingerbread—it’s like nothing you’ll ever taste anywhere else. If any of the stash I bought makes it back to the US, you might be able to get me to part with some of it. Might. And I couldn’t resist a trip to the town bookstore where I couldn’t resist buying something since I finally finished our assigned novel (Orlando, by Virginia Woolf—interesting stuff). I figured Bill Bryson’s Notes from a Small Island was an appropriate option, since it’s travel writing about England. Plus Bryson is absolutely hilarious. I’ve always wanted to read more of his stuff.

We walked to the edge of town to Wordsworth’s first house, Dove Cottage. I don’t have any pictures from inside since cameras aren’t allowed, but it can be adequately summed up in two words: dark and cramped. Dove Cottage was originally built as a pub with dark paneling to hide the smoke damage from cigars. There was also a tax on windows at the time, so each room has just one window, the size of a piece of paper. The cottage only has three bedrooms, and between William, his wife and eventually three children, Dorothy, plus various visiting poets, the cottage was usually crowded and uncomfortable.

However, Dove Cottage did have its perks—the garden out back was gorgeous! Our tour guide said it’s a little known fact that Wordsworth was an amazing landscaper (like any proper Englishman). I particularly liked this great rock seat found by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, of “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” fame. It’s under all these beautiful bushes. The whole garden is landscaped according to Wordsworth’s landscape philosophy that gardening was to aid the splendor of nature in awing the senses.

We then checked out the Wordsworth museum. There was a great exhibit on the Victorian art of letter writing. Oddly, the style of the letters reminded me of blog entries, a free flow of personal life, opinions, and ideas—hmm, that’s a paper waiting to happen. My favorite exhibit by far was the exhibit of “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” illustrations through the years. I love the creepiness of that poem, so many good images, so easily-adaptable to so many styles. There was a comic book version that was just hilarious!

After a short hike, we then arrived at Rydal Mount, Wordsworth’s home after Dove Cottage. And oh what a difference! Rydal Mount is light and airy and expansive. Wordsworth’s descendants actually still use the house, and it’s only open to the public during the day. I wonder how his great, great, great grandchildren feel about sharing their grandparent’s house with a bunch of tourists. And if Dove Cottage’s gardens were well done, Rydal Mount’s were even better and vastly more expansive. There were tons of little vistas and nooks and surprising corners—perfect for writing.

After we finished writing, we took the long way back to Grasmere around the lake. It was a nice little walk and apparently typical of what we’ll be doing the rest of the time. I’m really glad we’re done with mountains. I can definitely handle the rolling hills a lot better.

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Comments

[anonymous]

Ah. Spoke (typed?) too soon. Enjoy the gingerbread for me. Did you sit on the bench at the top of the Dove Cottage gardens and look out over Lake Windermere? Gorgeous.