LORD  BYRON  and  his  TIMES
Documents Biography Criticism

Samuel Rogers and his Contemporaries
Samuel Rogers to Henry Rogers, 20 August 1812

Vol. I Contents
Chapter I. 1803-1805.
Chapter II. 1805-1809.
Chapter III. 1810-1812.
Chapter IV. 1813-1814.
Chapter V. 1814-1815.
Chapter VI. 1815-1816.
Chapter VII. 1816-1818.
Chapter VIII. 1818-19.
Chapter IX. 1820-1821.
Chapter X. 1822-24.
Chapter XI. 1825-1827.
Vol. II Contents
Chapter I. 1828-1830.
Chapter II. 1831-34.
Chapter III. 1834-1837.
Chapter IV. 1838-41.
Chapter V. 1842-44.
Chapter VI. 1845-46.
Chapter VII. 1847-50.
Chapter VIII. 1850
Chapter IX. 1851.
Chapter X. 1852-55.
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‘Aug. 20, 1812.

‘My dear Henry,—I wrote to Sarah on Thursday the 13th, since which I have not heard; but as Lord Lonsdale writes that some letters are lying at Lowther, I hope to find one from home there. I meant to have left this place to-day, but am kept for want of horses. To-morrow I go to Lowther, where I mean to stay about ten days. I will write before I leave it. On Thursday the 13th, Sharp and the Mackintoshes returned to Lowwood from Patterdale. It was a delicious day, and after an early dinner, in M.’s landaulet and dicky, we went through Langdale to Grasmere, where we drank tea with the Wordsworths. Their little girl lies buried in one corner of the churchyard out of sight of their windows. There is a black stone (the stone of the country) at her head, and another at her feet, and the inscription is on the side from the path, so that nobody can read it unless they go on purpose. It was done by the sister unknown to them, and bears this text: “Suffer the little children to come unto Me.” The child was three years old. Mrs. W. cries still every day, as I learn from W. Johnny goes every day to school at Ambleside, carrying his dinner in a satchel on his back.

‘At Ulleswater I met with Macreary the printer. He was one of a walking party which it would have given you pleasure to see. There were two very nice girls among them, each carrying her sketch-book and all her own baggage in her hand. He spoke with great enthusiasm
and regret of P. Mallet. I met them as I was returning from a walk by the lake-side one morning; they were then on their way to Keswick. On Friday the M.’s left us for Keswick; it was a summer day, and S. and I went on the lake to Ray-rig, a favourite station of his, where it is his custom to lie all the morning, looking up and down the lake. In the afternoon
Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth came unexpectedly and drank tea with us in the summer-house on the bowling green. It was a heavenly evening. The Langdale Pikes looked beautiful, and Mrs. W. was enchanted with the scene. She is a very nice woman indeed, very natural, very humble, and seemingly with a very elegant mind. After tea we walked up the Troutbeck Road about a quarter of a mile and saw the sun set on the lake in all its glory. The W.’s were as much affected by it as if they had never seen such a thing before. Indeed, in their little valley, they never can see a sunset. It was the pleasantest evening I have spent since I left home. On Saturday I set off at six o’clock. At Grasmere I dropped Sharp, who went to breakfast with Wordsworth, and I went on to Keswick, where I found the Mackintoshes at breakfast. We then set out together on horseback to Lodore (it was our scheme to have gone so far by water, but, after going out a little way, we disembarked and took to our horses, the lake being rough), then through Borrowdale and over Borrowdale Horse, as it is called, to Buttermere, where we dined. Mary is married to a plain farmer, who keeps the public-house. She has four little children, and is still very handsome, though not in good health. Indeed, the servant girl
was something extraordinary, being very handsome, very sweet, and with a certain dignity. At least we were all imposed upon by everything we saw, and
Lady M. thought I had done Mary great injustice in my description.

‘On Sunday the M.’s left me on their way to Edinburgh, and it rained till five o’clock. I then took a sweet walk by the lake, which was very gay, all the townspeople being out, and many parties on the water. The Keswick women are very dexterous at rowing. On Monday, the 17th, it was very sultry, and I rowed, or rather was rowed, about the lake, visiting Lodore and the islands. In the evening I walked to Ormithwaite, an old house under Skiddaw, commanding a noble view of the lake and vale of Keswick. Its fields are full of old oaks; a path runs through them to the little village of Applethwaite, a few scattered cottages, so called, in a crevice of Skiddaw (I dare say Sarah remembers it), and there I wandered till dusk. On Tuesday I spent the whole morning there, returning at four to dinner, when Mrs. Wood regaled me with a grouse, and in the evening walked by the lake to Friar’s Crag. Stephen went with us to Buttermere. He remembers well the chase Parsons gave him up Skiddaw. At Ulleswater I looked up the mountain Parsons descended so expertly. On Monday Cole went up Skiddaw with a party of servants, but he had not been five minutes on the top when a cloud enveloped them. He seemed sadly disappointed, but, however, enjoys himself very much. I shall not be sorry to leave Keswick, not having enjoyed it much. Indeed, I am no longer fit to be alone. Yesterday
I was again at Ormithwaite, and shall go and mope there again to-day for the last time. The two last days have been very wet and stormy. My love to all. Adieu, my dear

‘S. R.’