After London; Or, Wild England

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After London; Or, Wild England Page 8

by Richard Jefferies


  CHAPTER II

  THE HOUSE OF AQUILA

  Presently there came the sound of a creaking axle, which grew louder andlouder as the waggon drew nearer, till it approached a shriek. Thesleeper moved uneasily, but recognising the noise even in his dreams,did not wake. The horrible sounds stopped; there was the sound ofvoices, as if two persons, one without and one within the wall, werehailing each other; a gate swung open, and the waggon came past underthe very window of the bedroom. Even habit could not enable Felix toentirely withstand so piercing a noise when almost in his ears. He satup a minute, and glanced at the square of light on the wall to guess thetime by its position.

  In another minute or two the squeaking of the axle ceased, as the waggonreached the storehouses, and he immediately returned to the pillow.Without, and just beneath the window, there ran a road or way, which inpart divided the enclosure into two portions; the dwelling-house and itsoffices being on one side, the granaries and storehouses on the other.But a few yards to the left of his room, a strong gate in the enclosingwall gave entrance to this roadway. It was called the Maple Gate,because a small maple tree grew near outside. The wall, which surroundedthe whole place at a distance of eight or ten yards from the buildings,was of brick, and about nine feet high, with a ditch without.

  It was partly embattled, and partly loopholed, and a banquette of earthrammed hard ran all round inside, so that the defenders might dischargedarts or arrows through the embrasures, and step down out of sight toprepare a fresh supply. At each corner there was a large platform, wherea considerable number of men could stand and command the approaches;there were, however, no bastions or flanking towers. On the roof of thedwelling-house a similar platform had been prepared, protected by aparapet; from which height the entire enclosure could be overlooked.

  Another platform, though at a less height, was on the roof of theretainers' lodgings, so placed as especially to command the second gate.Entering by the Maple Gate, the dwelling-house was on the right hand,and the granaries and general storehouses on the left, the latter builton three sides of a square. Farther on, on the same side, were thestables, and near them the forge and workshops. Beyond these, again,were the lodgings of the retainers and labourers, near which, in thecorner, was the South Gate, from which the South Road led to thecattle-pens and farms, and out to the south.

  Upon the right hand, after the dwelling-house, and connected with it,came the steward's stores, where the iron tools and similar valuablearticles of metal were kept. Then, after a covered passage-way, thekitchen and general hall, under one roof with the house. The housefronted in the opposite direction to the roadway; there was a narrowgreen lawn between it and the enceinte, or wall, and before the generalhall and kitchens a gravelled court. This was parted from the lawn bypalings, so that the house folk enjoyed privacy, and yet were close totheir servitors. The place was called the Old House, for it dated backto the time of the ancients, and the Aquilas were proud of the simpledesignation of their fortified residence.

  Felix's window was almost exactly opposite the entrance to thestorehouse or granary yard, so that the waggon, after passing it, had togo but a little distance, and then, turning to the left, was drawn upbefore the doors of the warehouse. This waggon was low, built for thecarriage of goods only, of hewn plank scarcely smooth, and the wheelswere solid; cut, in fact, from the butt of an elm tree. Unlesscontinually greased the squeaking of such wheels is terrible, and thecarters frequently forgot their grease-horns.

  Much of the work of the farm, such as the carting of hay and corn inharvest-time, was done upon sleds; the waggons (there were but few ofthem) being reserved for longer journeys on the rough roads. Thiswaggon, laden with wool, some of the season's clip, had come in four orfive miles from an out-lying cot, or sheep-pen, at the foot of thehills. In the buildings round the granary yard there were stored notonly the corn and flour required for the retainers (who might at anymoment become a besieged garrison), but the most valuable products ofthe estate, the wool, hides, and tanned leather from the tan-pits,besides a great quantity of bacon and salt beef; indeed, every possiblearticle that could be needed.

  These buildings were put together with wooden pins, on account of thescarcity of iron, and were all (dwelling-houses included) roofed withred tile. Lesser houses, cottages, and sheds at a distance werethatched, but in an enclosure tiles were necessary, lest, in case of anattack, fire should be thrown.

  Half an hour later, at six o'clock, the watchman blew his horn as loudlyas possible for some two or three minutes, the hollow sound echoingthrough the place. He took the time by the sundial on the wall, it beinga summer morning; in winter he was guided by the position of the stars,and often, when sun or stars were obscured, went by guess. The househorn was blown thrice a day; at six in the morning, as a signal that theday had begun, at noon as a signal for dinner, at six in the afternoonas a signal that the day (except in harvest-time) was over. The watchmenwent their round about the enclosure all night long, relieved everythree hours, armed with spears, and attended by mastiffs. By day onesufficed, and his station was then usually (though not always) on thehighest part of the roof.

  The horn re-awoke Felix; it was the note by which he had been accustomedto rise for years. He threw open the oaken shutters, and the sunlightand the fresh breeze of the May morning came freely into the room. Therewas now the buzz of voices without, men unloading the wool, men at theworkshops and in the granaries, and others waiting at the door of thesteward's store for the tools, which he handed out to them. Iron beingso scarce, tools were a temptation, and were carefully locked up eachnight, and given out again in the morning.

  Felix went to the ivory cross and kissed it in affectionate recollectionof Aurora, and then looked towards the open window, in the pride and joyof youth turning to the East, the morning, and the light. Before he hadhalf dressed there came a knock and then an impatient kick at the door.He unbarred it, and his brother Oliver entered. Oliver had been for hisswim in the river. He excelled in swimming, as, indeed, in every manlyexercise, being as active and energetic as Felix was outwardly languid.

  His room was only across the landing, his door just opposite. It alsowas strewn with implements and weapons. But there was a far greaternumber of tools; he was an expert and artistic workman, and his tableand his seat, unlike the rude blocks in Felix's room, were tastefullycarved. His seat, too, had a back, and he had even a couch of his ownconstruction. By his bedhead hung his sword, his most valued and mostvaluable possession. It was one which had escaped the dispersion of theancients; it had been ancient even in their days, and of far better workthan they themselves produced.

  Broad, long, straight, and well-balanced, it appeared capable of cuttingthrough helmet and mail, when wielded by Oliver's sturdy arm. Such asword could not have been purchased for money; money, indeed, had oftenbeen offered for it in vain; persuasion, and even covert threats fromthose higher in authority who coveted it, were alike wasted. The swordhad been in the family for generations, and when the Baron grew too old,or rather when he turned away from active life, the second son claimedit as the fittest to use it. The claim was tacitly allowed; at allevents, he had it, and meant to keep it.

  In a corner stood his lance, long and sharp, for use on horse-back, andby it his saddle and accoutrements. The helmet and the shirt of mail,the iron greaves and spurs, the short iron mace to bang at thesaddle-bow, spoke of the knight, the man of horses and war.

  Oliver's whole delight was in exercise and sport. The boldest rider, thebest swimmer, the best at leaping, at hurling the dart or the heavyhammer, ever ready for tilt or tournament, his whole life was spent withhorse, sword, and lance. A year younger than Felix, he was at least tenyears physically older. He measured several inches more round the chest;his massive shoulders and immense arms, brown and hairy, his powerfullimbs, tower-like neck, and somewhat square jaw were the naturalconcomitants of enormous physical strength.

  All the blood and bone and thew and sinew of the house seemed to havefallen to h
is share; all the fiery, restless spirit and defiant temper;all the utter recklessness and warrior's instinct. He stood every inch aman, with dark, curling, short-cut hair, brown cheek and Roman chin,trimmed moustache, brown eye, shaded by long eyelashes and well-markedbrows; every inch a natural king of men. That very physicalpreponderance and animal beauty was perhaps his bane, for his comradeswere so many, and his love adventures so innumerable, that they left himno time for serious ambition.

  Between the brothers there was the strangest mixture of affection andrepulsion. The elder smiled at the excitement and energy of the younger;the younger openly despised the studious habits and solitary life of theelder. In time of real trouble and difficulty they would have been drawntogether; as it was, there was little communion; the one went his way,and the other his. There was perhaps rather an inclination to detractfrom each other's achievements that to praise them, a species ofjealousy or envy without personal dislike, if that can be understood.They were good friends, and yet kept apart.

  Oliver made friends of all, and thwacked and banged his enemies intorespectful silence. Felix made friends of none, and was equally despisedby nominal friends and actual enemies. Oliver was open and jovial; Felixreserved and contemptuous, or sarcastic in manner. His slender frame,too tall for his width, was against him; he could neither lift theweights nor undergo the muscular strain readily borne by Oliver. It waseasy to see that Felix, although nominally the eldest, had not yetreached his full development. A light complexion, fair hair and eyes,were also against him; where Oliver made conquests, Felix wasunregarded. He laughed, but perhaps his secret pride was hurt.

  There was but one thing Felix could do in the way of exercise and sport.He could shoot with the bow in a manner till then entirely unapproached.His arrows fell unerringly in the centre of the target, the swift deerand the hare were struck down with ease, and even the wood-pigeon infull flight. Nothing was safe from those terrible arrows. For this, andthis only, his fame had gone forth; and even this was made a source ofbitterness to him.

  The nobles thought no arms worthy of men of descent but the sword andlance; missile weapons, as the dart and arrow, were the arms ofretainers. His degradation was completed when, at a tournament, where hehad mingled with the crowd, the Prince sent for him to shoot at thebutt, and display his skill among the soldiery, instead of with theknights in the tilting ring. Felix shot, indeed, but shut his eyes thatthe arrow might go wide, and was jeered at as a failure even in thatignoble competition. Only by an iron self-control did he refrain thatday from planting one of the despised shafts in the Prince's eye.

  But when Oliver joked him about his failure, Felix asked him to hang uphis breastplate at two hundred yards. He did so, and in an instant ashaft was sent through it. After that Oliver held his peace, and in hisheart began to think that the bow was a dangerous weapon.

  "So you are late again this morning," said Oliver, leaning against therecess of the window, and placing his arms on it. The sunshine fell onhis curly dark hair, still wet from the river. "Studying last night, Isuppose?" turning over the parchment. "Why didn't you ride into townwith me?"

  "The water must have been cold this morning?" said Felix, ignoring thequestion.

  "Yes; there was a slight frost, or something like it, very early, and amist on the surface; but it was splendid in the pool. Why don't you getup and come? You used to."

  "I can swim," said Felix laconically, implying that, having learnt theart, it no more tempted him. "You were late last night. I heard you putNight in."

  "We came home in style; it was rather dusky, but Night galloped theGreen Miles."

  "Mind she doesn't put her hoof in a rabbit's hole, some night."

  "Not that. She can see like a cat. I believe we got over the twelvemiles in less than an hour. Sharp work, considering the hills. You don'tinquire for the news."

  "What's the news to me?"

  "Well, there was a quarrel at the palace yesterday afternoon. The Princetold Louis he was a double-faced traitor, and Louis told the Prince hewas a suspicious fool. It nearly came to blows, and Louis is banished."

  "For the fiftieth time."

  "This time it is more serious."

  "Don't believe it. He will be sent for again this morning; cannot yousee why?"

  "No."

  "If the Prince is really suspicious, he will never send his brother intothe country, where he might be resorted to by discontented people. Hewill keep him close at hand."

  "I wish the quarrelling would cease; it spoils half the fun; one'sobliged to creep about the court and speak in whispers, and you can'ttell whom you are talking to; they may turn on you if you say too much.There is no dancing either. I hate this moody state. I wish they wouldeither dance or fight."

  "Fight! who?"

  "Anybody. There's some more news, but you don't care."

  "No. I do not."

  "Why don't you go and live in the woods all by yourself?" said Oliver,in some heat.

  Felix laughed.

  "Tell me your news. I am listening."

  "The Irish landed at Blacklands the day before yesterday, and burntRobert's place; they tried Letburn, but the people there had beenwarned, and were ready. And there's an envoy from Sypolis arrived; somethink the Assembly has broken up; they were all at daggers drawn. Somuch for the Holy League."

  "So much for the Holy League," repeated Felix.

  "What are you going to do to-day?" asked Oliver, after awhile.

  "I am going down to my canoe," said Felix.

  "I will go with you; the trout are rising. Have you got any hooks?"

  "There's some in the box there, I think; take the tools out."

  Oliver searched among the tools in the open box, all rusty and coveredwith dust, while Felix finished dressing, put away his parchment, andknotted the thong round his chest. He found some hooks at the bottom,and after breakfast they walked out together, Oliver carrying his rod,and a boar-spear, and Felix a boar-spear also, in addition to a smallflag basket with some chisels and gouges.

 

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