on his hobby, is all agog with the thing. Miss Templeton, who is brought
up in reverence for all her guardian's humours, has proposed to be of
the party, and Lady Lillycraft has talked also of riding out to the
scene of action and looking on. This has gratified the old gentleman
extremely; he hails it as an auspicious omen of the revival of falconry,
and does not despair but the time will come when it will be again the
pride of a fine lady to carry about a noble falcon in preference to a
parrot or a lapdog.
I have amused myself with the bustling preparations of that busy spirit,
Master Simon, and the continual thwartings he receives from that
genuine son of a pepper-box, old Christy. They have had half a dozen
consultations about how the hawk is to be prepared for the morning's
sport. Old Nimrod, as usual, has always got in a pet, upon which Master
Simon has invariably given up the point, observing in a good-humoured
tone, "Well, well, have it your own way, Christy; only don't put
yourself in a passion;" a reply which always nettles the old man ten
times more than ever.
[Illustration: "Well, well, have it your own way, Christy!"]
[Illustration: Hawking]
HAWKING.
The soaring hawk, from fist that flies,
Her falconer doth constrain
Sometimes to range the ground about
To find her out again;
And if by sight, or sound of bell,
His falcon he may see,
Wo ho! he cries, with cheerful voice--
The gladdest man is he.
HANDEFULL OF PLEASANT DELITES.
At an early hour this morning the Hall was in a bustle, preparing for
the sport of the day. I heard Master Simon whistling and singing under
my window at sunrise, as he was preparing the jesses for the hawk's
legs, and could distinguish now and then a stanza of one of his
favourite old ditties:
"In peascod time, when hound to horn
Gives note that buck be kill'd;
And little boy with pipe of corn
Is tending sheep a-field," etc.
A hearty breakfast, well flanked by cold meats, was served up in the
great hall. The whole garrison of retainers and hangers-on were in
motion, reinforced by volunteer idlers from the village. The horses were
led up and down before the door; everybody had something to say and
something to do, and hurried hither and thither; there was a direful
yelping of dogs; some that were to accompany us being eager to set off,
and others that were to stay at home being whipped back to their
kennels. In short, for once, the good squire's mansion might have been
taken as a good specimen of one of the rantipole establishments of the
good old feudal times.
Breakfast being finished, the chivalry of the Hall prepared to take the
field. The fair Julia was of the party, in a hunting-dress, with a light
plume of feathers in her riding-hat. As she mounted her favourite
Galloway, I remarked, with pleasure, that old Christy forgot his usual
crustiness, and hastened to adjust her saddle and bridle. He touched his
cap as she smiled on him and thanked him; and then, looking round at the
other attendants, gave a knowing nod of his head, in which I read pride
and exultation at the charming appearance of his pupil.
Lady Lillycraft had likewise determined to witness the sport. She was
dressed in her broad white beaver, tied under the chin, and a
riding-habit of the last century. She rode her sleek, ambling pony,
whose motion was as easy as a rocking-chair; and was gallantly escorted
by the general, who looked not unlike one of the doughty heroes in the
old prints of the battle of Blenheim. The parson, likewise, accompanied
her on the other side; for this was a learned amusement in which he took
great interest; and, indeed, had given much counsel, from his knowledge
of old customs.
At length everything was arranged, and off we set from the Hall. The
exercise on horseback puts one in fine spirits; and the scene was gay
and animating. The young men of the family accompanied Miss Templeton.
She sat lightly and gracefully in her saddle, her plumes dancing and
waving in the air; and the group had a charming effect as they appeared
and disappeared among the trees, cantering along with the bounding
animation of youth. The squire and Master Simon rode together,
accompanied by old Christy mounted on Pepper. The latter bore the hawk
on his fist, as he insisted the bird was most accustomed to him. There
was a rabble rout on foot, composed of retainers from the Hall, and some
idlers from the village, with two or three spaniels for the purpose of
starting the game.
A kind of corps de reserve came on quietly in the rear, composed of Lady
Lillycraft, General Harbottle, the parson, and a fat footman. Her
ladyship ambled gently along on her pony, while the general, mounted on
a tall hunter, looked down upon her with an air of the most protecting
gallantry.
For my part, being no sportsman, I kept with this last party, or rather
lagged behind, that I might take in the whole picture; and the parson
occasionally slackened his pace and jogged on in company with me.
The sport led us at some distance from the Hall, in a soft meadow
reeking with the moist verdure of spring. A little river ran through it,
bordered by willows, which had put forth their tender early foliage. The
sportsmen were in quest of herons, which were said to keep about this
stream.
There was some disputing already among the leaders of the sport. The
squire, Master Simon, and old Christy, came every now and then to a
pause, to consult together, like the field officers in an army; and I
saw, by certain motions of the head, that Christy was as positive as any
old, wrong-headed German commander.
[Illustration: The Consultation in the Field]
As we were prancing up this quiet meadow every sound we made was
answered by a distinct echo from the sunny wall of an old building that
lay on the opposite margin of the stream; and I paused to listen to the
"spirit of a sound," which seems to love such quiet and beautiful
places. The parson informed me that this was the ruin of an ancient
grange, and was supposed by the country people to be haunted by a
dobbie, a kind of rural sprite, something like Robin-Goodfellow. They
often fancied the echo to be the voice of the dobbie answering them, and
were rather shy of disturbing it after dark. He added, that the squire
was very careful of this ruin, on account of the superstition connected
with it. As I considered this local habitation of an "airy nothing," I
called to mind the fine description of an echo in Webster's Duchess of
Malfy:
--"'Yond side o' th' river lies a wall,
Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion
Gives the best echo that you have ever heard:
So plain in the distinction of our words
That many have supposed it a spirit
That answers."
The parson went on to comment on a pleasing and fanciful appellation
which the Jews of old gave to the echo, which they called Bath-kool,
that is to say, "the daughter of the voice;" they considered it an
oracle, supplying in the second temple the want of the Urim and Thummim,
with which the first was honoured.[A] The little man was just entering
very largely and learnedly upon the subject, when we were startled by a
prodigious bawling, shouting, and yelping. A flight of crows, alarmed by
the approach of our forces, had suddenly risen from a meadow; a cry was
put up by the rabble rout on foot--"Now, Christy! now is your time,
Christy!" The squire and Master Simon, who were beating up the river
banks in quest of a heron, called out eagerly to Christy to keep quiet;
the old man, vexed and bewildered by the confusion of voices, completely
lost his head: in his flurry he slipped off the hood, cast off the
falcon, and away flew the crows, and away soared the hawk.
[Footnote A: Bekker's _Monde Enchanté_.]
I had paused on a rising ground, close to Lady Lillycraft and her
escort, from whence I had a good view of the sport. I was pleased with
the appearance of the party in the meadow, riding along in the direction
that the bird flew; their bright beaming faces turned up to the bright
skies as they watched the game; the attendants on foot scampering along,
looking up, and calling out, and the dogs bounding and yelping with
clamorous sympathy.
[Illustration: The Quarry in Sight]
The hawk had singled out a quarry from among the carrion crew. It was
curious to see the efforts of the two birds to get above each other; one
to make the fatal swoop, the other to avoid it. Now they crossed athwart
a bright feathery cloud, and now they were against the clear blue sky.
I confess, being no sportsman, I was more interested for the poor bird
that was striving for its life, than for the hawk that was playing the
part of a mercenary soldier. At length the hawk got the upper hand, and
made a rushing stoop at her quarry, but the latter made as sudden a
surge downwards, and slanting up again evaded the blow, screaming and
making the best of his way for a dry tree on the brow of a neighbouring
hill; while the hawk, disappointed of her blow, soared up again into the
air, and appeared to be "raking" off. It was in vain old Christy called
and whistled, and endeavoured to lure her down; she paid no regard to
him; and, indeed, his calls were drowned in the shouts and yelps of the
army of militia that had followed him into the field.
Just then an exclamation from Lady Lillycraft made me turn my head. I
beheld a complete confusion among the sportsmen in the little vale below
us. They were galloping and running towards the edge of a bank; and I
was shocked to see Miss Templeton's horse galloping at large without his
rider. I rode to the place to which bank, which almost overhung the
stream, I saw at the foot of it the fair Julia, pale, bleeding, and
apparently lifeless, supported in the arms of her frantic lover.
[Illustration: Julia's Mishap]
In galloping heedlessly along, with her eyes turned upward, she had
unwarily approached too near the bank; it had given way with her, and
she and her horse had been precipitated to the pebbled margin of the
river.
I never saw greater consternation. The captain was distracted; Lady
Lillycraft fainting; the squire in dismay; and Master Simon at his wits'
end. The beautiful creature at length showed signs of returning life;
she opened her eyes; looked around her upon the anxious group, and
comprehending in a moment the nature of the scene, gave a sweet smile,
and putting her hand in her lover's, exclaimed feebly, "I am not much
hurt, Guy!" I could have taken her to my heart for that single
exclamation.
It was found, indeed, that she had escaped, almost miraculously, with a
contusion of the head, a sprained ankle, and some slight bruises. After
her wound was stanched, she was taken to a neighbouring cottage until a
carriage could be summoned to convey her home; and when this had
arrived, the cavalcade, which had issued forth so gaily on this
enterprise, returned slowly and pensively to the Hall.
I had been charmed by the generous spirit shown by this young creature,
who, amidst pain and danger, had been anxious only to relieve the
distress of those around her. I was gratified, therefore, by the
universal concern displayed by the domestics on our return. They came
crowding down the avenue, each eager to render assistance. The butler
stood ready with some curiously delicate cordial; the old housekeeper
was provided with half a dozen nostrums, prepared by her own hands,
according to the family receipt book; while her niece, the melting
Phoebe, having no other way of assisting, stood wringing her hands and
weeping aloud.
The most material effect that is likely to follow this accident is a
postponement of the nuptials, which were close at hand. Though I
commiserate the impatience of the captain on that account, yet I shall
not otherwise be sorry at the delay, as it will give me a better
opportunity of studying the characters here assembled, with which I grow
more and more entertained.
I cannot but perceive that the worthy squire is quite disconcerted at
the unlucky result of his hawking experiment, and this unfortunate
illustration of his eulogy on female equitation. Old Christy, too, is
very waspish, having been sorely twitted by Master Simon for having let
his hawk fly at carrion. As to the falcon, in the confusion occasioned
by the fair Julia's disaster the bird was totally forgotten. I make no
doubt she has made the best of her way back to the hospitable Hall of
Sir Watkyn Williams Wynn; and may very possibly, at this present
writing, be pluming her wings among the breezy bowers of Wynnstay.
[Illustration: Pluming Her Wings]
[Illustration: The Gipsy Encampment]
FORTUNE-TELLING.
Each city, each town, and every village
Affords us either an alms or pillage.
And if the weather be cold and raw,
Then in a barn we tumble on straw.
If warm and fair, by yea-cock and nay-cock,
The fields will afford us a hedge or a hay-cock.
MERRY BEGGARS.
As I was walking one evening with the Oxonian, Master Simon, and the
general, in a meadow not far from the village, we heard the sound of a
fiddle rudely played, and looking in the direction from whence it came,
we saw a thread of smoke curling up from among the trees. The sound of
music is always attractive; for, wherever there is music, there is good
humour, or goodwill. We passed along a footpath, and had a peep, through
a break in the hedge, at the musician and his party, when the Oxonian
gave us a wink, and told us that if we would follow him we should have
some sport.
It proved to be a gipsy encampment, consisting of three or four little
cabins, or tents, made of blankets and sail-cloth, spread over hoops
that were stuck in the ground. It was on one side of a green lane, close
under a hawthorn hedge, with a broad beech-tree spreading above it. A
small rill tinkled along close by, through the fresh sward, that looked
like a carpet.
A tea-kettle was hanging by a crooked piece of iron, over a fire made
from dry sticks and leaves, and two old gipsies, in red cloaks, sat
crouched on the grass, gossiping over their evening cup of tea; for
these creatures, though they live in the open air, have their ideas of
fireside comforts. There were two or three children sleeping on the
straw with which the tents were littered; a couple of donkeys were
grazing in the lane, and a thievish-looking dog was lying before the
fire. Some of the younger gipsies were dancing to the music of a
fiddle, played by a tall, slender stripling, in an old frock coat, with
a peacock's feather stuck in his hatband.
As we approached, a gipsy girl, with a pair of fine roguish eyes, came
up, and, as usual, offered to tell our fortunes. I could not but admire
a certain degree of slattern elegance about the baggage. Her long black
silken hair was curiously plaited in numerous small braids, and
negligently put up in a picturesque style that a painter might have been
proud to have devised. Her dress was of a figured chintz, rather ragged,
and not over clean, but of a variety of most harmonious and agreeable
colours; for these beings have a singularly fine eye for colours. Her
straw hat was in her hand, and a red cloak thrown over one arm.
[Illustration: A Gipsy Girl]
The Oxonian offered at once to have his fortune told, and the girl began
with the usual volubility of her race; but he drew her on one side near
the hedge, as he said he had no idea of having his secrets overheard. I
saw he was talking to her instead of she to him, and by his glancing
towards us now and then, that he was giving the baggage some private
hints. When they returned to us, he assumed a very serious air.
"Zounds!" said he, "it's very astonishing how these creatures come by
their knowledge; this girl has told me some things that I thought no one
knew but myself!"
The girl now assailed the general: "Come, your honour," said she, "I see
by your face you're a lucky man; but you're not happy in your mind;
you're not, indeed, sir; but have a good heart, and give me a good piece
of silver, and I'll tell you a nice fortune."
The general had received all her approaches with a banter, and had
suffered her to get hold of his hand; but at the mention of the piece of
silver, he hemmed, looked grave, and turning to us, asked if we had not
better continue our walk. "Come, my master," said the girl archly,
"you'd not be in such a hurry, if you knew all that I could tell you
about a fair lady that has a notion for you. Come, sir, old love burns
strong; there's many a one comes to see weddings that go away brides
themselves!" Here the girl whispered something in a low voice, at which
the general coloured up, was a little fluttered, and suffered himself to
be drawn aside under the hedge, where he appeared to listen to her with
great earnestness, and at the end paid her half-a-crown with the air of
a man that has got the worth of his money.
[Illustration: The General in the Toils]
The girl next made her attack upon Master Simon, who, however, was too
old a bird to be caught, knowing that it would end in an attack upon his
purse, about which he is a little sensitive. As he has a great notion,
however, of being considered a roister, he chucked her under the chin,
played her off with rather broad jokes, and put on something of the
rake-helly air, that we see now and then assumed on the stage by the
sad-boy gentlemen of the old school. "Ah, your honour," said the girl,
with a malicious leer, "you were not in such a tantrum last year when I
told you about the widow you know who; but if you had taken a friend's
advice, you'd never have come away from Doncaster races with a flea in
your ear!"
There was a secret sting in this speech that seemed quite to disconcert
Master Simon. He jerked away his hand in a pet, smacked his whip,
whistled to his dogs, and intimated that it was high time to go home.
The girl, however, was determined not to lose her harvest. She now
turned upon me, and, as I have a weakness of spirit where there is a
pretty face concerned, she soon wheedled me out of my money, and in
return read me a fortune which, if it prove true, and I am determined
to believe it, will make me one of the luckiest men in the chronicles of
Cupid.
I saw that the Oxonian was at the bottom of all this oracular mystery,
and was disposed to amuse himself with the general, whose tender
approaches to the widow have attracted the notice of the wag. I was a
little curious, however, to know the meaning of the dark hints which had
so suddenly disconcerted Master Simon: and took occasion to fall in the
rear with the Oxonian on our way home, when he laughed heartily at my
questions, and gave me ample information on the subject.
The truth of the matter is, that Master Simon has met with a sad rebuff
since my Christmas visit to the Hall. He used at that time to be joked
about a widow, a fine dashing woman, as he privately informed me. I had
supposed the pleasure he betrayed on these occasions resulted from the
usual fondness of old bachelors for being teased about getting married,
and about flirting, and being fickle and false-hearted. I am assured,
however, that Master Simon had really persuaded himself the widow had a
kindness for him; in consequence of which he had been at some
extraordinary expense in new clothes, and had actually got Frank
Bracebridge to order him a coat from Stultz. He began to throw out
hints about the importance of a man's settling himself in life before he
grew old; he would look grave whenever the widow and matrimony were
mentioned in the same sentence; and privately asked the opinion of the
squire and parson about the prudence of marrying a widow with a rich
jointure, but who had several children.
An important member of a great family connection cannot harp much upon
the theme of matrimony without its taking wind; and it soon got buzzed
about that Mr. Simon Bracebridge was actually gone to Doncaster races,
with a new horse, but that he meant to return in a curricle with a lady
by his side. Master Simon did, indeed, go to the races, and that with a
new horse; and the dashing widow did make her appearance in her
curricle; but it was unfortunately driven by a strapping young Irish
dragoon, with whom even Master Simon's self-complacency would not allow
him to enter into competition, and to whom she was married shortly
after.
It was a matter of sore chagrin to Master Simon for several months,
having never before been fully committed. The dullest head in the
family, had a joke upon him; and there is no one that likes less to be
bantered than an absolute joker. He took refuge for a time at Lady
Lillycraft's, until the matter should blow over; and occupied himself by
looking over her accounts, regulating the village choir, and inculcating
loyalty into a pet bullfinch by teaching him to whistle "God save the
King."
[Illustration: "God save the King!"]
He has now pretty nearly recovered from the mortification; holds up his
head, and laughs as much as any one; again affects to pity married men,
and is particularly facetious about widows, when Lady Lillycraft is not
by. His only time of trial is when the general gets hold of him, who is
infinitely heavy and persevering in his waggery, and will interweave a
dull joke through the various topics of a whole dinner-time. Master
Simon often parries these attacks by a stanza from his old work of
"Cupid's Solicitor for Love:"
"'Tis in vain to woo a widow over long,
In once or twice her mind you may perceive;
Widows are subtle, be they old or young,
And by their wiles young men they will deceive."
[Illustration: Tossing the Pancake]
LOVE-CHARMS.
--Come, do not weep, my girl,
Forget him, pretty pensiveness; there will
Come others, every day, as good as he.
SIR J. SUCKLING.
The approach of a wedding in a family is always an event of great
importance, but particularly so in a household like this, in a retired
part of the country. Master Simon, who is a pervading spirit, and,
through means of the butler and housekeeper, knows everything that goes
forward, tells me that the maid-servants are continually trying their
fortunes, and that the servants' hall has of late been quite a scene of
incantation.
It is amusing to notice how the oddities of the head of a family flow
down through all the branches. The squire, in the indulgence of his love
of everything that smacks of old times, has held so many grave
conversations with the parson at table, about popular superstitions and
traditional rites, that they have been carried from the parlour to the
kitchen by the listening domestics, and, being apparently sanctioned by
such high authorities, the whole house has become infected by them.
The servants are all versed in the common modes of trying luck, and the
charms to ensure constancy. They read their fortunes by drawing strokes
in the ashes, or by repeating a form of words, and looking in a pail of
water. St. Mark's Eve, I am told, was a busy time with them; being an
appointed night for certain mystic ceremonies. Several of them sowed
hemp-seed, to be reaped by their true lovers; and they even ventured
upon the solemn and fearful preparation of the dumb-cake. This must be
done fasting and in silence. The ingredients are handed down in
traditional form:--"An egg-shell full of salt, an egg-shell full of
malt, and an egg-shell full of barley meal." When the cake is ready, it
is put upon a pan over the fire, and the future husband will appear,
turn the cake, and retire; but if a word is spoken, or a fast is broken,
during this awful ceremony, there is no knowing what horrible
consequence would ensue!
The experiments in the present instance came to no result; they that
sowed the hemp-seed forgot the magic rhyme that they were to pronounce,
so the true lover never appeared; and as to the dumb-cake, what between
the awful stillness they had to keep, and the awfulness of the midnight
hour, their hearts failed them when they had put the cake in the pan, so
that, on the striking of the great house-clock in the servants' hall,
they were seized with a sudden panic, and ran out of the room, to which
they did not return until morning, when they found the mystic cake burnt
to a cinder.