第13章 THE SKETCH BOOK(2)
- THE SKETCH BOOK
- Washington Irving
- 927字
- 2016-03-02 16:36:19
We had now come in full view of the old family mansion, partlythrown in deep shadow, and partly lit up by the cold moonshine. It wasan irregular building, of some magnitude, and seemed to be of thearchitecture of different periods. One wing was evidently veryancient, with heavy stone-shafted bow windows jutting out andoverrun with ivy, from among the foliage of which the smalldiamond-shaped panes of glass glittered with the moonbeams. The restof the house was in the French taste of Charles the Second's time,having been repaired and altered, as my friend told me, by one ofhis ancestors, who returned with that monarch at the Restoration.
The grounds about the house were laid out in the old formal mannerof artificial flower-beds, clipped shrubberies, raised terraces, andheavy stone balustrades, ornamented with urns, a leaden statue or two,and a jet of water. The old gentleman, I was told, was extremelycareful to preserve this obsolete finery in all its original state. Headmired this fashion in gardening; it had an air of magnificence,was courtly and noble, and befitting good old family style. Theboasted imitation of nature in modern gardening had sprung up withmodern republican notions, but did not suit a monarchicalgovernment; it smacked of the levelling system- I could not helpsmiling at this introduction of politics into gardening, though Iexpressed some apprehension that I should find the old gentlemanrather intolerant in his creed.- Frank assured me, however, that itwas almost the only instance in which he had ever heard his fathermeddle with politics; and he believed that he had got this notion froma member of parliament who once passed a few weeks with him. Thesquire was glad of any argument to defend his clipped yew-trees andformal terraces, which had been occasionally attacked by modernlandscape gardeners.
As we approached the house, we heard the sound of music, and now andthen a burst of laughter, from one end of the building. This,Bracebridge said, must proceed from the servants' hall, where agreat deal of revelry was permitted, and even encouraged by thesquire, throughout the twelve days of Christmas, provided everything was done conformably to ancient usage. Here were kept up the oldgames of hoodman blind, shoe the wild mare, hot cockles, steal thewhite loaf, bob apple, and snap dragon: the Yule clog and Christmascandle were regularly burnt, and the mistletoe, with its whiteberries, hung up, to the imminent peril of all the pretty housemaids.** The mistletoe is still hung up in farmhouses and kitchens atChristmas; and the young men have the privilege of kissing the girlsunder it, plucking each time a berry from the bush. When the berriesare all plucked, the privilege ceases.
So intent were the servants upon their sports that we had to ringrepeatedly before we could make ourselves heard. On our arrivalbeing announced, the squire came out to receive us, accompanied by histwo other sons; one a young officer in the army, home on leave ofabsence; the other an Oxonian, just from the university. The squirewas a fine healthy-looking old gentleman, with silver hair curlinglightly round an open florid countenance; in which thephysiognomist, with the advantage, like myself, of a previous hintor two, might discover a singular mixture of whim and benevolence.
The family meeting was warm and affectionate: as the evening was faradvanced, the squire would not permit us to change our travellingdresses, but ushered us at once to the company, which was assembled ina large old-fashioned hall. It was composed of different branches of anumerous family connection, where there were the usual proportion ofold uncles and aunts, comfortable married dames, superannuatedspinsters, blooming country cousins, half-fledged striplings, andbright-eyed boarding-school hoydens. They were variously occupied;some at a round game of cards; others conversing around the fireplace;at one end of the hall was a group of the young folks, some nearlygrown up, others of a more tender and budding age, fully engrossedby a merry game; and a profusion of wooden horses, penny trumpets, andtattered dolls, about the floor, showed traces of a troop of littlefairy beings, who, having frolicked through a happy day, had beencarried off to slumber through a peaceful night.
While the mutual greetings were going on between young Bracebridgeand his relatives, I had time to scan the apartment. I have calledit a hall, for so it had certainly been in old times, and the squirehad evidently endeavored to restore it to something of its primitivestate. Over the heavy projecting fireplace was suspended a pictureof a warrior in armor, standing by a white horse, and on theopposite wall hung a helmet, buckler, and lance. At one end anenormous pair of antlers were inserted in the wall, the branchesserving as hooks on which to suspend hats, whips, and spurs; and inthe corners of the apartment were fowling-pieces, fishing-rods, andother sporting implements. The furniture was of the cumbrousworkmanship of former days, though some articles of modern conveniencehad been added, and the oaken floor had been carpeted; so that thewhole presented an odd mixture of parlor and hall.
The grate had been removed from the wide overwhelming fireplace,to make way for a fire of wood, in the midst of which was anenormous log glowing and blazing, and sending forth a vast volume oflight and heat: this I understood was the Yule clog, which thesquire was particular in having brought in and illumined on aChristmas eve, according to an ancient custom.** The Yule clog is a great log of wood, sometimes the root of atree, brought into the house with great ceremony, on Christmas eve,laid in the fireplace, and lighted with the brand of last year's clog.