Wordsworth & Beatrix Potter Lived Here!

We headed for the Lake District in heavy rain and wind. The roadways were puddling up, especially on the B roads that we were routed over until we reached the A66. There were may places we crossed that had water deeper than I would normally drive through if it were moving, but it was just standing water, so I prayed to the car gods to keep us from stalling out and drove on.
We reached Keswich by lunch and headed off in the direction of Beatrix Potter's home near Grasmere. The country seemed to heave itself upward into mountains that looked more like huge hills than what we think of as mountains.

They must be very old and worn down indeed for they are covered with rock walls and verdant with grass. Sheep dot the hillsides and water runs down them in great falls and rocky rivulets--white against the many shades of green. Even with the grey sky as backdrop the colors pop! The roads grew narrower as we got closer to the mark and once again I was on rock wall lined roads that were never intended to support automobile traffic.

These roads have little turn-outs probably put there for horse and buggy traffic. Now the locals and truck drivers whiz through these narrow thoroughfares believing that you are a competent driver accustomed to the path! The car we have is much larger than most cars in the district. I pull it all the way into the spot --- completely flush with the wall and it still sticks out longer than the white line for the spot. It is also wider than most cars --- which means I must try to find a spot far enough away that I can take up more space without worrying about a car parking next to me and bunging up the doors. I worry about getting a nic or mark on the exterior since my last experience when someone must have scratched the car in a lot --- for when I turned it in --- they made a really big deal about it......Kathy had to pay extra!

We arrived at Hilltop house at about 1:30 only to find it closed!!! But at least the garden and shop were open. Miss Potter willed her home to the National Trust with one stipulation -- that it be kept just as it was when she lived in it. For the past 60 years this has been so. I felt sad not to see the rooms in which she wrote, but the garden was a real treat. The woman who worked for the trust told me that it was indeed as Miss Potter kept it. The plants were all descendants of the originals! I took lots of pictures of them--- thinking about our little school garden back in Nashville and wondering what it looked like today.

We stopped and had lunch at a public house along the way ---It had been built in the early 1700s and the interior walls tilted and gyrated in unpredictable patterns. The ceilings were low -- probably not even 7 feet high testament to the fact that we have grown taller over the centuries. I had the fish and chips with pease pudding (it is sort of mashed peas with ham in it). It tasted better than I expected. Pease Porridge is probably a lot like split pea soup....but that part about it being nine days old, Kathy said, didn't sound good to her. (me either -- now that I think about it)

We next headed over to Wordsworth's Dove Cottage -- and museum. He lived in this cottage for nearly a decade and was most prolific there. He came upon the place as he was walking over the path that was called Coffin Lane -- it was the path that coffins were carried up and over to the churchyard on the other side of the mountain. There were large rock slabs to support the coffins if those who carried them tired in the task! At any rate, the place was painted bright white and stood out against its companion houses. It had been a pub for nearly 200 years before Wordsworth came upon and was for rent.....He and his sister Dorothy took the place and moved in. It had many famous occupants including; Coleridge, Sotheby, Blake, Byron and others.

During his time at this residence he married and had 8 children, in addition to many house guests (who often stayed for months at a time!). This idea was difficult to imagine --- since the place was really quite small and DARK., though his study upstairs had a (for those times) large window that would have looked out across meadows to the lake. It was also painted colorfully and quite pleasant. The rest of the home was another story. The dining room with its hearth (which was lighted with coal burning to warm the place (yes it was cold today) had dark paneling and would have been really difficult to work in because it was so dark, yet according to the docent all the work of the home was done there. Next to it was a bedroom for Dorothy. It was so dark that this was the only purpose the room could serve.

There was a window tax at the time ---- and many places tried to keep windows to a minimum to keep from paying it! The kitchen was also small, and all the rooms had large plank floors in which no attempt was made to have the planks form any sort of coherent design --- not even straight lines! There was a room off the kitchen which had a stream running beneath it -- that the family used to keep food chilled --- as the docent pointed out Mrs. Wordsworth thought that she could keep things there for us to two weeks --- but by today's standards of freshness --- we might have different thoughts.

Thechildren's room which Dorothy had papered the walls with News paper in an attempt to keep the cold at bay, and you can read newspaper bits from the time! His sister lived with his family because at the time unmarried women didn't live alone --- of course Beatrix Potter broke that rule! The thing that seemed interesting to me was the role Dorothy played in Wordsworth's writing.

Wordsworth used her journals for his inspiration for his poetry. He apparently relied on her realistic entries as prompts for his poetry.
He wrote about the human condition unlike Byron who tended to write about adventure and affairs of the heart and of state with a bit of satire thrown in! While Byron outsold Wordsworth, Wordsworth will probably stand the test of time because of the subjects he chose to write about. In his bedroom his passport hung behind glass --- looking more like a letter of introduction --- it told of his travel to Italy and France. On the other wall was his appointment to be poet laureate --- with Queen Victoria's signature. He finally agreed to the appointment only if he didn't have to write on command, he believed he could not do that -- he had to have inspiration--- so ironically the whole 8 years he served as poet laureate he never wrote anything for the Queen. Early he had been against the monarchy and supported the republican concepts of the French Revolution. He had been in France for the storming of the Bastille....but he managed to escape being tried as a traitor --- the English aristocracy and monarchy feared that a revolution could start up in England!

Like all Englishmen he loved a garden and his garden was also quite lovely, but the rain and chill sent us back to the car and off to find our Bed and Breakfast. It was not far from Keswich. The wiry-spry older lady who operates it said she walks to town every day --- through the park she said, it only takes about 15 minutes! She was married to a farmer, but they sold all their land (she sighed as she recalled that.) In her back yard are a flock of sheep grazing in the rain! The mamas are sheered and they are not letting the babies eat. They butt them away, and occasionally one of the mother sheep butts another sheep away from the trough!

There was a lovely watercolor in the hall of their farm home. Apparently they had people stay there also. Originally there was only one large room upstairs for guests which had many beds in it. Later they divided the space up into rooms and now that her husband is gone she carries on the tradition in town. She pointed lovingly to the house, which had been built in the 1600s. The door was especially designed to keep the Scots from bursting in, and she demonstrated the technique they might have used. Then with a wistful sigh, she said, it was a lovely old house, but too much for me to maintain.
Tomorrow we will begin our trek to the Isle of Skye.