. 
85 
The parish marriage registers tell us that in 1788, “ William 
Wilson, Esq., aged thirty-eight, of the parish of Hesket, married 
Mary Grave, aged twenty-two ;” and that in 1790, “Isaac Field 
Parker, Esq., aged twenty-two, of the parish of Hesket, married 
Sophia Grave, a minor.” Each of the marriages is witnessed by 
Matthew Grave. Then turning to the baptismal register, guided 
by the age of one bride and the inferred age of the other, it is 
found that Mr. Matthew Grave was father of both brides. This 
then is the story of the pair of houses erected in 1792 by the 
husbands of two sisters. Captain John Wordsworth resided in 
the house he had purchased until 1820, when by accident or 
insane intention to get through the skylight in the front part of 
the roof, he fell to the ground and was killed. The late Mr. 
Jacob Thompson, then a boy going to school, witnessed the 
catastrophe. The house occupied by Miss Bleaymire has lately 
been called ‘Wordsworth House,” but it never had the slightest 
connection, except perhaps that of the party wall, with any of the 
Wordsworths ; neither is there any evidence that the poet ever 
entered the other house occupied by his unfortunate cousin John. 
When our Society lately visited Grasmere, all were struck with 
admiration of the well cared for Wordsworth graves and monu- 
ments, but I then thought with regret that the poet’s mother and 
her ancestors were lying in unknown graves in Penrith churchyard, 
without a stone to mark their resting place; and that the mother 
of an illustrious poet and a learned Master of Trinity, and grand- 
mother of two bishops, should be so forgotten that no one can 
point out where she lies. There may, however, have been a 
Cookson monument of perishable stone, now lost. The dilapidated 
state of the old monuments is indeed deplorable, in consequence 
of the barbarous condition of the churchyard up to the early part 
of this century. In fact, it was literally an open village green with 
footpaths crossing it in various directions ; no wonder then that 
monuments were broken or trodden out of recognition, and brasses 
torn from the stones and sold for old metal. The enclosure of 
the churchyard in 1824 was an excellent work, but it came too 
late—the mischief had been done, and can never be repaired, 
