Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 2 (of 2)Wordsworth, Dorothy
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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Wordsworth, Dorothy
Authors, English -- 19th century -- Diaries; Wordsworth, Dorothy, 1771-1855 -- Diaries; Wordsworth, William, 1770-1850 -- Family
When left to ourselves we sate down on the hillside, and looked with
delight into the deep vale below, which was exceedingly green, not
regularly fenced or cultivated, but the level area scattered over with
bushes and trees, and through that level ground glided a glassy river,
not in serpentine windings, but in direct turnings backwards and
forwards, and then flowed into the head of the Lake of Tummel; but I
will copy a rough sketch which I made while we sate upon the hill,
which, imperfect as it is, will give a better idea of the course of the
river--which I must add is more curious than beautiful--than my
description. The ground must be often overflowed in winter, for the
water seemed to touch the very edge of its banks. At this time the scene
was soft and cheerful, such as invited us downwards, and made us proud
of our adventure. Coming near to a cluster of huts, we turned thither, a
few steps out of our way, to inquire about the road; these huts were on
the hill, placed side by side, in a figure between a square and a
circle, as if for the sake of mutual shelter, like haystacks in a
farmyard--no trees near them. We called at one of the doors, and three
hale, stout men came out, who could speak very little English, and
stared at us with an almost savage look of wonder. One of them took much
pains to set us forward, and went a considerable way down the hill till
we came in sight of the cart road, which we were to follow; but we had
not gone far before we were disheartened. It was with the greatest
difficulty William could lead the horse and car over the rough stones,
and to sit in it was impossible; the road grew worse and worse,
therefore we resolved to turn back, having no reason to expect anything
better, for we had been told that after we should leave the untracked
ground all would be fair before us. We knew ourselves where we stood to
be about eight miles distant from the point where the river Tummel,
after having left the lake, joins the Garry at Fascally near the Pass of
Killicrankie, therefore we resolved to make our way thither, and
endeavour to procure a lodging at the same public-house where it had
been refused to us the night before. The road was likely to be very bad;
but, knowing the distance, we thought it more prudent than to venture
farther with nothing before us but uncertainty. We were forced to unyoke
the horse, and turn the car ourselves, owing to the steep banks on
either side of the road, and after much trouble we got him in again, and
set our faces down the vale towards Loch Tummel, William leading the car
and I walking by his side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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