During my college vacation, and two or three years afterwards, before taking my bachelor’s degree, I was several times resident in the house of a near relative, who lived in the small town of Broughton.  I passed many delightful hours upon the banks of this river, which becomes an estuary about a mile from that place.  The remembrances of that period are the subject of the 21st Sonnet.  The subject of the 27th Sonnet is, in fact, taken from a tradition belonging to Rydal Hall, which once stood, as is believed, upon a rocky and woody hill on the right hand as you go from Rydal to Ambleside, and was deserted, from the superstitious fear here described, and the present site fortunately chosen instead.  The present Hall was erected by Sir Michael le Fleming, and it may be hoped that at some future time there will be an edifice more worthy of so beautiful a position.  With regard to the 30th Sonnet, it is odd enough that this imagination was realised in the year 1840, when I made a tour through this district with my wife and daughter, Miss Fenwick and her niece, and Mr. and Miss Quillinan.  Before our return from Seathwaite Chapel, the party separated.  Mrs. Wordsworth, while most of us went further up the stream, chose an opposite direction, having told us that we would overtake her on our way to Ulpha.  But she was tempted out of the main road to ascend a rocky eminence near it, thinking it impossible we should pass without seeing her.  This however unfortunately happened; and then ensued vexation and distress, especially to me, which I should be ashamed to have recorded, for I lost my temper entirely.  Neither I nor those who were with me saw her again till we reached the Inn at Broughton, seven miles.  This may perhaps in some degree excuse my irritability on the occasion, for I could not but think she had been much to blame.  It appeared, however, on explanation, that she had remained on the rock, calling out and waving her handkerchief as we were passing, in order that we also might ascend and enjoy a prospect which had much charmed her.  ‘But on we went, her signals proving vain.’  How then could she reach Broughton before us?  When we found she had not gone on to Ulpha Kirk, Mr. Quillinan went back in one of the carriages in search of her.  He met her on the road, took her up, and by a shorter way conveyed her to Broughton, where we were all re-united and spent a happy evening.

I have many affecting remembrances connected with this stream.  These I forbear to mention, especially things that occurred on its banks during the latter part of that visit to the sea-side, of which the former part is detailed in my Epistle to Sir George Beaumont.

[The following additional notices of his latter excursion to the banks of the Duddon are from a letter to Lady Frederick Bentinck.