In her "Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland", 1803, Dorothy Wordsworth writes:
"Sunday, August 28th.--... After long waiting, the girls, who had been on the look-out, informed us that the boat was coming. I went to the waterside, and saw a cl.u.s.ter of people on the opposite sh.o.r.e; but, being yet at a distance, they looked more like soldiers surrounding a carriage than a group of men and women; red and green were the distinguishable colours. We hastened to get ourselves ready as soon as we saw the party approach, but had longer to wait than we expected, the lake being wider than it appears to be. As they drew near we could distinguish men in tartan plaids, women in scarlet cloaks, and green umbrellas by the half-dozen. The landing was as pretty a sight as ever I saw. The bay, which had been so quiet two days before, was all in motion with small waves, while the swollen waterfall roared in our ears. The boat came steadily up, being pressed almost to the water"s edge by the weight of its cargo; perhaps twenty people landed, one after another. It did not rain much, but the women held up their umbrellas; they were dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, and with their scarlet cardinals, the tartan plaids of the men, and Scotch bonnets, made a gay appearance. There was a joyous bustle surrounding the boat, which even imparted something of the same character to the waterfall in its tumult, and the restless grey waves; the young men laughed and shouted, the la.s.ses laughed, and the elder folks seemed to be in a bustle to be away. I remember well with what haste the mistress of the house where we were ran up to seek after her child, and seeing us, how anxiously and kindly she inquired how we had fared, if we had had a good fire, had been well waited upon, etc. All this in three minutes--for the boatman had another party to bring from the other side, and hurried us off.
"The hospitality we had met with at the two cottages and Mr.
Macfarlane"s gave us very favourable impressions on this our first entrance into the Highlands, and at this day the innocent merriment of the girls, with their kindness to us, and the beautiful face and figure of the elder, come to my mind whenever I think of the ferry-house and waterfall of Loch Lomond, and I never think of the two girls but the whole image of that romantic spot is before me, a living image as it will be to my dying day. The following poem was written by William not long after our return from Scotland."
Compare the poem called "The Three Cottage Girls", in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820," published in 1822.--Ed.
GLEN-ALMAIN; OR, THE NARROW GLEN
Composed (possibly) in 1803.--Published 1807
Cla.s.sed in 1815 and 1820 with the "Poems of the Imagination."--Ed.
In this still place, remote from men, Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN; In this still place, where murmurs on But one meek streamlet, only one: He sang of battles, and the breath 5 Of stormy war, and violent death; And should, methinks, when all was past, Have rightfully been laid at last Where rocks were rudely heaped, and rent As by a spirit turbulent; 10 Where sights were rough, and sounds were wild, And everything unreconciled; In some complaining, dim retreat, For fear and melancholy meet; But this is calm; there cannot be 15 A more entire tranquillity.
Does then the Bard sleep here indeed?
Or is it but a groundless creed?
What matters it?--I blame them not Whose Fancy in this lonely Spot 20 Was moved; and in such [1] way expressed Their notion of its perfect rest.
A convent, even a hermit"s cell, Would break the silence of this Dell: [A]
It is not quiet, is not ease; 25 But something deeper far than these: The separation that is here Is of the grave; and of austere Yet [2] happy feelings of the dead: And, therefore, was it rightly said 30 That Ossian, last of all his race!
Lies buried in this lonely place.
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1827.
... in this ... 1807.]
[Variant 2:
1827.
And ... 1807.]
FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Compare the poem "To the Lady Fleming", stanza iii. ll.
28-9.--Ed.]
The glen is Glenalmond, in Perthshire, between Crieff and Amulree, known locally as "the Sma" Glen." I am not aware that it was ever called "Glen Almain," till Wordsworth gave it that singularly un-Scottish name. [B]
It must have been a warm August day, after a tract of dry weather, when he went through it, or the Almond would scarcely have been called a "small streamlet." In many seasons of the year the distinctive features of the Glen would be more appropriately indicated by the words, which the poet uses by way of contrast with his own experience of it, viz. a place
"Where sights are rough, and sounds are wild, And everything unreconciled."
But his characterization of the place--a glen, the charm of which is little known--in the stillness of an autumn afternoon, is as true to nature as any of his interpretations of the spirit of the hills and vales of Westmoreland. As yet there is no farm-house, scarcely even a sheiling, to "break the silence of this Dell."
The following is Dorothy Wordsworth"s account of their walk through it on Friday, September 9th, 1803:
"Entered the glen at a small hamlet at some distance from the head, and, turning aside a few steps, ascended a hillock which commanded a view to the top of it--a very sweet scene, a green valley, not very narrow, with a few scattered trees and huts, almost invisible in a misty green of afternoon light. At this hamlet we crossed a bridge, and the road led us down the glen, which had become exceedingly narrow, and so continued to the end: the hills on both sides heathy and rocky, very steep, but continuous; the rock not single or overhanging, not scooped into caverns, or sounding with torrents; there are no trees, no houses, no traces of cultivation, not one outstanding object. It is truly a solitude, the road even making it appear still more so; the bottom of the valley is mostly smooth and level, the brook not noisy: everything is simple and undisturbed, and while we pa.s.sed through it the whole place was shady, cool, clear, and solemn. At the end of the long valley we ascended a hill to a great height, and reached the top, when the sun, on the point of setting, shed a soft yellow light upon every eminence. The prospect was very extensive; over hollows and plains, no towns, and few houses visible--a prospect, extensive as it was, in harmony with the secluded dell, and fixing its own peculiar character of removedness from the world, and the secure possession of the quiet of nature more deeply in our minds. The following poem was written by William on hearing of a tradition relating to it, which we did not know when we were there."
Ed.
[Footnote B: In the Statistical Account of Scotland, however--drawn up by the parish ministers of the county, and edited by Sir John Sinclair--both the river and the glen are spelt Almon, by the Rev. Mr.
Erskine, who wrote the account of Monzie Parish in Perthshire. This was in 1795. A recent authority states:
""Glenamon," in Ayrshire, and "Glenalmond," in Perthshire, are both from the corrupted spelling of the word "Avon," which derives from its being very nearly the p.r.o.nunciation of the Gaelic word for "a river."
These names are from "Gleann-abhuinn," that is,"the valley of the river.""
(See the "Gaelic Topography of Scotland", by James A. Robertson, Edinburgh, 1859.)--Ed.]
STEPPING WESTWARD