ginning
of the century. From this point the conversation leads to the mention of
two individuals, who by their several fortunes were, at different times,
driven to take refuge at the small and obscure town of Hawkshead on the
skirt of these mountains. Their stories I had from the dear old dame
with whom, as a school-boy, and afterwards, I lodged for the space of
nearly ten years. The elder, the Jacobite, was named Drummond, and was
of a high family in Scotland; the Hanoverian Whig bore the name of
Vandeput,[15] and might, perhaps, be a descendant of some Dutchman who
had come over in the train of King William. At all events, his zeal was
such, that he ruined himself by a contest for the representation of
London or Westminster, undertaken to support his Party, and retired to
this corner of the world, selected as it had been by Drummond for that
obscurity which, since visiting the Lakes became fashionable, it has no
longer retained. So much was this region considered out of the way till
a late period, that persons who had fled from justice used often to
resort hither for concealment, and some were so bold as to not
unfrequently make excursions from the place of their retreat for the
purpose of committing fresh offences. Such was particularly the case
with two brothers of the name of Weston, who took up their abode at Old
Brathay, I think about seventy years ago. They were highwaymen, and
lived there some time without being discovered, though it was known that
they often disappeared, in a way, and upon errands, which could not be
accounted for. Their horses were noticed as being of a choice breed, and
I have heard from the Relph family, one of whom was a saddler in the
town of Kendal, that they were curious in their saddles, and housings,
and accoutrements of their horses. They, as I have heard, and as was
universally believed, were, in the end, both taken and hanged.

[15] Sir George Vandeput.

_Tall was her stature, her complexion dark, and saturnine_.--This person
lived at Town-End, and was almost our next neighbour. I have little to
notice concerning her beyond what is said in the poem. She was a most
striking instance how far a woman may surpass in talent, in knowledge,
and culture of mind, those with and among whom she lives, and yet fall
below them in Christian virtues of the heart and spirit. It seemed
almost, and I say it with grief, that in proportion as she excelled in
the one, she failed in the other. How freq