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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
293
[Footnote
95:
There
is
a
mistake
here.
His
bones
were
laid
about
fifteen
or
twenty
miles
from
thence,
in
Balquhidder
kirkyard.
But
it
was
under
the
belief
that
his
"grave
is
near
the
head
of
Loch
Ketterine,
in
one
of
those
pinfold-like
burial
grounds,
of
neglected
and
desolate
appearance,
which
the
traveller
meets
with
in
the
Highlands
of
Scotland,"
that
the
well-known
poem
on
Rob
Roy's
Grave
was
composed.--J.
C.
S.]
When
breakfast
was
ended
the
mistress
desired
the
person
whom
we
took
to
be
her
husband
to
"return
thanks."
He
said
a
short
grace,
and
in
a
few
minutes
they
all
went
off
to
their
work.
We
saw
them
about
the
door
following
one
another
like
a
flock
of
sheep,
with
the
children
after,
whatever
job
they
were
engaged
in.
Mrs.
Macfarlane
told
me
she
would
show
me
the
burying-place
of
the
lairds
of
Glengyle,
and
took
me
to
a
square
enclosure
like
a
pinfold,
with
a
stone
ball
at
every
corner;
we
had
noticed
it
the
evening
before,
and
wondered
what
it
could
be.
It
was
in
the
middle
of
a
"planting,"
as
they
call
plantations,
which
was
enclosed
for
the
preservation
of
the
trees,
therefore
we
had
to
climb
over
a
high
wall:
it
was
a
dismal
spot,
containing
four
or
five
graves
overgrown
with
long
grass,
nettles,
and
brambles.
Against
the
wall
was
a
marble
monument
to
the
memory
of
one
of
the
lairds,
of
whom
they
spoke
with
veneration:
some
English
verses
were
inscribed
upon
the
marble,
purporting
that
he
had
been
the
father
of
his
clan,
a
brave
and
good
man.
When
we
returned
to
the
house
she
said
she
would
show
me
what
curious
feathers
they
had
in
their
country,
and
brought
out
a
bunch
carefully
wrapped
up
in
paper.
On
my
asking
her
what
bird
they
came
from,
"Oh!"
she
replied,
"it
is
a
great
beast."
We
conjectured
it
was
an
eagle,
and
from
her
description
of
its
ways,
and
the
manner
of
destroying
it,
we
knew
it
was
so.
She
begged
me
to
accept
of
some
of
the
feathers,
telling
me
that
some
ladies
wore
them
in
their
heads.
I
was
much
pleased
with
the
gift,
which
I
shall
preserve
in
memory
of
her
kindness
and
simplicity
of
manners,
and
the
Highland
solitude
where
she
lived.
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