After London; Or, Wild England

by Richard Jefferies

  CHAPTER I

  SIR FELIX

  On a bright May morning, the sunlight, at five o'clock, was pouring intoa room which face the east at the ancestral home of the Aquilas. In thisroom Felix, the eldest of the three sons of the Baron, was sleeping. Thebeams passed over his head, and lit up a square space on the oppositewhitewashed wall, where, in the midst of the brilliant light, hung anivory cross. There were only two panes of glass in the window, each nomore than two or three inches square, the rest of the window beingclosed by strong oaken shutters, thick enough to withstand the stroke ofan arrow.

  In the daytime one of these at least would have been thrown open toadmit air and light. They did not quite meet, and a streak of sunshine,in addition to that which came through the tiny panes, entered at thechink. Only one window in the house contained more than two such panes(it was in the Baroness's sitting-room), and most of them had none atall. The glass left by the ancients in their dwellings had long sincebeen used up or broken, and the fragments that remained were tooprecious to be put in ordinary rooms. When larger pieces werediscovered, they were taken for the palaces of the princes, and eventhese were but sparingly supplied, so that the saying "he has glass inhis window" was equivalent to "he belongs to the upper ranks".

  On the recess of the window was an inkstand, which had been recently inuse, for a quill lay beside it, and a sheet of parchment partly coveredwith writing. The ink was thick and very dark, made of powderedcharcoal, leaving a slightly raised writing, which could be perceived bythe finger on rubbing it lightly over. Beneath the window on the barefloor was an open chest, in which were several similar parchments andbooks, and from which the sheet on the recess had evidently been taken.This chest, though small, was extremely heavy and strong, being dug outwith the chisel and gouge from a solid block of oak. Except a fewparallel grooves, there was no attempt at ornamentation upon it. Thelid, which had no hinges, but lifted completely off, was tilted againstthe wall. It was, too, of oak some inches thick, and fitted upon thechest by a kind of dovetailing at the edges.

  Instead of a lock, the chest was fastened by a lengthy thong of oxhide,which now lay in a coil on the floor. Bound round and round, twisted andintertangled, and finally tied with a special and secret knot (the endsbeing concealed), the thong of leather secured the contents of the chestfrom prying eyes or thievish hands. With axe or knife, of course, theknot might easily have been severed, but no one could obtain access tothe room except the retainers of the house, and which of them, even ifunfaithful, would dare to employ such means in view of the certainpunishment that must follow? It would occupy hours to undo the knot, andthen it could not be tied again in exactly the same fashion, so that thereal use of the thong was to assure the owner that his treasures had notbeen interfered with in his absence. Such locks as were made were of theclumsiest construction. They were not so difficult to pick as the thongto untie, and their expense, or rather the difficulty of getting aworkman who could manufacture them, confined their use to the heads ofgreat houses. The Baron's chest was locked, and his alone, in thedwelling.

  Besides the parchments which were nearest the top, as most in use, therewere three books, much worn and decayed, which had been preserved, moreby accident than by care, from the libraries of the ancients. One was anabridged history of Rome, the other a similar account of Englishhistory, the third a primer of science or knowledge; all three, indeed,being books which, among the ancients, were used for teaching children,and which, by the men of those days, would have been cast aside withcontempt.

  Exposed for years in decaying houses, rain and mildew had spotted andstained their pages; the covers had rotted away these hundred years, andwere now supplied by a broad sheet of limp leather with wide margins faroverlapping the edges; many of the pages were quite gone, and otherstorn by careless handling. The abridgment of Roman history had beenscorched by a forest fire, and the charred edges of the leaves haddropped away in semicircular holes. Yet, by pondering over these, Felixhad, as it were, reconstructed much of the knowledge which was thecommon (and therefore unvalued) possession of all when they wereprinted.

  The parchments contained his annotations, and the result of his thought;they were also full of extracts from decaying volumes lying totallyneglected in the houses of other nobles. Most of these were of extremeantiquity, for when the ancients departed, the modern books which theyhad composed being left in the decaying houses at the mercy of theweather, rotted, or were destroyed by the frequent grass fires. Butthose that had been preserved by the ancients in museums escaped for awhile, and some of these yet remained in lumber-rooms and corners,whence they were occasionally dragged forth by the servants for greaterconvenience in lighting the fires. The young nobles, entirely devoted tothe chase, to love intrigues, and war, overwhelmed Felix Aquila withridicule when they found him poring over these relics, and being of aproud and susceptible spirit, they so far succeeded that he abandonedthe open pursuit of such studies, and stole his knowledge by fitfulglances when there was no one near. As among the ancients learning wasesteemed above all things, so now, by a species of contrast, it was ofall things the most despised.

  Under the books, in one corner of the chest, was a leather bagcontaining four golden sovereigns, such as were used by the ancients,and eighteen pieces of modern silver money, the debased shillings of theday, not much more than half of which was silver and the rest alloy. Thegold coins had been found while digging holes for the posts of a newstockade, and by the law should have been delivered to the prince'streasury. All the gold discovered, whether in the form of coin orjewellery, was the property of the Prince, who was supposed to pay forits value in currency.

  As the actual value of the currency was only half of its nominal value(and sometimes less), the transaction was greatly in favour of thetreasury. Such was the scarcity of gold that the law was strictlyenforced, and had there been the least suspicion of the fact, the housewould have been ransacked from the cellars to the roof. Imprisonment andfine would have been the inevitable fate of Felix, and the family wouldvery probably have suffered for the fault of one of its members. Butindependent and determined to the last degree, Felix ran any risk ratherthan surrender that which he had found, and which he deemed his own.This unbending independence and pride of spirit, together with scarceconcealed contempt for others, had resulted in almost isolating him fromthe youth of his own age, and had caused him to be regarded with dislikeby the elders. He was rarely, if ever, asked to join the chase, andstill more rarely invited to the festivities and amusements provided inadjacent houses, or to the grander entertainments of the higher nobles.Too quick to take offence where none was really intended, he fanciedthat many bore him ill-will who had scarcely given him a passingthought. He could not forgive the coarse jokes uttered upon his personalappearance by men of heavier build, who despised so slender a stripling.

  He would rather be alone than join their company, and would not competewith them in any of their sports, so that, when his absence from thearena was noticed, it was attributed to weakness or cowardice. Theseimputations stung him deeply, driving him to brood within himself. Hewas never seen in the courtyards or ante-rooms at the palace, norfollowing in the train of the Prince, as was the custom with theyouthful nobles. The servility of the court angered and disgusted him;the eagerness of strong men to carry a cushion or fetch a dog annoyedhim.

  There were those who observed this absence from the crowd in theante-rooms. In the midst of so much intrigue and continual striving forpower, designing men, on the one hand, were ever on the alert for whatthey imagined would prove willing instruments; and on the other, thePrince's councillors kept a watchful eye on the dispositions of everyone of the least consequence; so that, although but twenty-five, Felixwas already down in two lists, the one, at the palace, of persons whoseviews, if not treasonable, were doubtful, and the other, in the hands ofa possible pretender, as a discontented and therefore useful man. Felixwas entirely ignorant that he had attracted so much observation. Hesupposed himself simply d
espised and ignored; he cherished no treason,had not the slightest sympathy with any pretender, held totally alooffrom intrigue, and his reveries, if they were ambitious, concerned onlyhimself.

  But the most precious of the treasures in the chest were eight or tensmall sheets of parchment, each daintily rolled and fastened with aribbon, letters from Aurora Thyma, who had also given him the ivorycross on the wall. It was of ancient workmanship, a relic of the oldworld. A compass, a few small tools (valuable because preserved for somany years, and not now to be obtained for any consideration), and amagnifying glass, a relic also of the ancients, completed the contentsof the chest.

  Upon a low table by the bedstead were a flint and steel and tinder, andan earthenware oil lamp, not intended to be carried about. There, too,lay his knife, with a buckhorn hilt, worn by everyone in the belt, andhis forester's axe, a small tool, but extremely useful in the woods,without which, indeed, progress was often impossible. These were in thebelt, which, as he undressed, he had cast upon the table, together withhis purse, in which were about a dozen copper coins, not very regular inshape, and stamped on one side only. The table was formed of two shorthewn planks, scarcely smoothed, raised on similar planks (on edge) ateach end, in fact, a larger form.

  From a peg driven into the wall hung a disc of brass by a thin leathernlace; this disc, polished to the last degree, answered as a mirror. Theonly other piece of furniture, if so it could be called, was a block ofwood at the side of the table, used as a chair. In the corner, betweenthe table and the window, stood a long yew bow, and a quiver full ofarrows ready for immediate use, besides which three or four sheaves layon the floor. A crossbow hung on a wooden peg; the bow was of wood, and,therefore, not very powerful; bolts and square-headed quarrels werescattered carelessly on the floor under it.

  Six or seven slender darts used for casting with the hand, as javelins,stood in another corner by the door, and two stouter boar spears. By thewall a heap of nets lay in apparent confusion, some used for partridges,some of coarse twine for bush-hens, another, lying a little apart, forfishes. Near these the component parts of two turkey-traps were strewnabout, together with a small round shield or targe, such as are used byswordsmen, snares of wire, and, in an open box, several chisels, gouges,and other tools.

  A blowtube was fastened to three pegs, so that it might not warp, ahunter's horn hung from another, and on the floor were a number ofarrows in various stages of manufacture, some tied to the straighteningrod, some with the feathers already attached, and some hardly shapedfrom the elder or aspen log. A heap of skins filled the third corner,and beside them were numerous stag's horns, and two of the white cow,but none yet of the much dreaded and much desired white bull. A fewpeacock's feathers were there also, rare and difficult to get, andintended for Aurora. Round one footpost of the bed was a long coil ofthin hide, a lasso, and on another was suspended an iron cap, orvisorless helmet.

  There was no sword or lance. Indeed, of all these weapons andimplements, none seemed in use, to judge by the dust that had gatheredupon them, and the rusted edges, except the bow and crossbow and one ofthe boar spears. The bed itself was very low, framed of wood, thick andsolid; the clothes were of the coarsest linen and wool; there were fursfor warmth in winter, but these were not required in May. There was nocarpet, nor any substitute for it; the walls were whitewashed, ceilingthere was none, the worm-eaten rafters were visible, and the roof tree.But on the table was a large earthenware bowl, full of meadow orchids,blue-bells, and a bunch of may in flower.

  His hat, wide in the brim, lay on the floor; his doublet was on thewooden block or seat, with the long tight-fitting trousers, which showedevery muscle of the limb, and by them high shoes of tanned but unblackedleather. His short cloak hung on a wooden peg against the door, whichwas fastened with a broad bolt of oak. The parchment in the recess ofthe window at which he had been working just before retiring was coveredwith rough sketches, evidently sections of a design for a ship or galleypropelled by oars.

  The square spot of light upon the wall slowly moved as the sun rosehigher, till the ivory cross was left in shadow, but still the slumbererslept on, heedless, too, of the twittering of the swallows under theeaves, and the call of the cuckoo not far distant.