Juvenile Day at the Hall.AAnold English Hall is one of the finest and most noble of mansions. Our country abounds with them; and happy may be, I will not say is, he who possesses one. Old Leckford Hall, in Suffolk, and Helmingham Hall, in the same place, have ever commanded my veneration; but there is one, which now shall be nameless, that I used, in my youth, to love to pay a visit to.The said hall stood in a secluded situation, deeply embowered. On three sides it was surrounded by a park, on the fourth by meadows, edged by the river. Close by, on one side of the house, was a thick grove of lofty trees, along the verge of which runs one of the principal avenues to it through the park. It is an irregular building of great antiquity, probably erected about the termination of feudal warfare, whendefence became no longer to be an object in a country mansion. Many circumstances in the interior of the house, however, seemed appropriate to feudal times. The hall is very spacious, floored with stones and lighted by large transoms that are closed with casements. Its walls are hung with old military accoutrements, that have long been left a prey to the rust. At one end of the hall is a range of coats of mail and helmets, and there is on every side abundance of old-fashioned pistols and guns, many of them with matchlocks. Immediately below the cornice hangs a row of leathern jerkins, made in the form of a shirt, supposed to have been worn as armour by the vassals. A large oak table, reaching nearly from one end of the room to the other, might have feasted the whole neighbourhood, and an appendage to one end of it made it answer, at other times, for the old game of shuffle-board. The rest of the furniture is in a suitable style, particularly an aged chair of curious workmanship, an old carved chest, a grave-looking old ebony cabinet inlaid with precious stones, while the walls were hung with noble pieces of tapestry, representing the hunting of Diana, and other strange subjects of sylvan classicality.The entrance into the hall was by a lofty porch, but there was a winding stair at one side of it, that led from the front door to a quadrangle within. At the other it opened into a gloomy staircase, by which you ascended to the first-floor, and, passing the doors of some bed-chambers, entered a narrow gallery, which extends along the back part of the house from one end to the other, and looks upon an old garden, with high walls all round it, and having niches for medallions, in which the busts of the twelve Cæsars appear in all their naked-neckedand unadorned beauty. The gallery is hung with portraits, chiefly in the Spanish dresses of the sixteenth century. In one of the bed-chambers, which you pass in going towards the gallery, is a bedstead hung with blue furniture, which time has now made dingy and thread-bare. The other bed-rooms sympathise with this, and the whole brought back to me the glory of former days.The hall of the country squire was usually the scene of hospitality. At the upper end was placed theorsille, or high table, a little elevated above the floor, and here the master of the mansion presided, with an authority, if not a state, which almost equalled that of the potent Baron. The table was divided into upper and lower messes by a high salt-cellar, and the rank and consequence of the visitors were marked by the situation of their seats above and below the salt-cellar; a custom which not only distinguished the relative dignity of the guests, but extended likewise to the freemen; the wine frequently circulating only above the salt-cellar, and the dishes below it being of a coarser kind than those near the head of the table.Such was an old hall in ancient times. And such remains the old hall to which I have alluded, with this difference, that the people, the manners, and the customs have changed. The old hall is now tenanted by a gentleman of birth and fortune, who is also the spiritual guide of the scattered flocks of his somewhat extensive domain. He is, indeed, the “Good Shepherd of the Sheep,” and the sheep love him and follow him. It is his delight to make all cheerful about him, and nothing affords him greater pleasure than to give a grand treat at the hall to the young people, especially the children of the villagersround him. Once a year he has what he calls a “Juvenile Day at the Hall.” He invites both rich and poor, and mingles them together for their mutual good—deemingnothing to be more delightful than the text of scripture, “rich and poor meet together, for the Lord is the maker of them all.”The HallIt was a beautiful day in the latter end of June, that the “Juvenile Day at the Hall” took place. The day was ushered in by the jingle of the three bells of the little church or chapel close to the hall, and within its precincts. A flag was placed upon the little tower, and festoons of flowers were tastefully arranged in the avenue that led from the church to the mansion. Presently was seen the village schoolmaster, an old cripple with a very white head, and with his “four-and-twenty free boys” in their blue jackets and cord contrivances, and looking all fresh and rosy. Then came the schoolmistress, with her “clear-starched” cap, neat muslin apron, and demure demeanour, with her “twenty-four girls” in “russet brown.”The boys had their traps, bats, and balls, their kites, their stumps and wicket-markers, and were ready for “hog-over hie,” “prisoners’-base,” “stay-out,” or any other delightful game. And the girls were ready for a dance, or a romp, as the occasion might require—or for a roll down the slope, or for “hunt-the-slipper,” or “honey-pots,” or any other exhilirating game. Within the hall were the juveniles of higher stamp—there were the good clergyman’s sons and daughters, three of the former and four of the latter; there were also the sons and daughters of the mayor of the Town; and of the half-pay captains in the valley. Then there were the apothecary’s two daughters, so proud that their father’s occupation disgusted them; and the steward’s two sons, fine, noble looking youths, so humble, that they looked more like gentlemen,than any other persons. However, pride soon met with a fall, for the apothecary’s two daughters had a roll down the slope without stopping, a ride on the ponies, and a dance with the village-school dux—that is the boy who could do “fluxions;” and long before night, the poor and the rich, the rustic and the genteel, mingled in the most delightful harmony imaginable. The good old rector, who was all joy to see young people so happy, often found the tears coming into his eyes, and all seemed to share his sympathy.It would be tedious for me to mention all the “noble sports” and funny entertainments the young ones amused themselves with during this happy, jolly day—from the drawing of a crooked stick for a plough, to the noble game of cricket; or hand-kites arose in various directions, or tired groups of boys exhausted their games on the great meadow. But it was a crowning joy to find the whole assembled at nightfall, just as the sun descended to his rest, to partake of a sumptuous entertainment, finished well by rich, old black-currant wine, and other innocent drinks. To hear the shouts—the hearty shouts of the youngsters—to see the beautiful rosy cheeks of the village girls, and the freshened looks of those, whose false education had made them lack-a-dasical! All were free, and hearty, and joyous, and when the “Hymn of Praise” was sung after supper, it appeared to old Peter Parley as the most delightful thing of all.I wish those who read Peter Parley’s Annual would encourage these kind of mysteries. I mean those hundreds of rich persons who can give the “children of the poor” a treat in such a manner. Our good Queen Victoria has set us an example in this particular, which all would do well tofollow, and poor old Peter says, in consequence:—“God bless the Queen of England.”God bless the Queen of England and happy may she reign,Through many years of peaceful strength, our freedom to maintain;May virtue be the brightest gem to sparkle in her crown,A loyal people’s ardent love the safeguard of her throne.Children Playing
A
Anold English Hall is one of the finest and most noble of mansions. Our country abounds with them; and happy may be, I will not say is, he who possesses one. Old Leckford Hall, in Suffolk, and Helmingham Hall, in the same place, have ever commanded my veneration; but there is one, which now shall be nameless, that I used, in my youth, to love to pay a visit to.
The said hall stood in a secluded situation, deeply embowered. On three sides it was surrounded by a park, on the fourth by meadows, edged by the river. Close by, on one side of the house, was a thick grove of lofty trees, along the verge of which runs one of the principal avenues to it through the park. It is an irregular building of great antiquity, probably erected about the termination of feudal warfare, whendefence became no longer to be an object in a country mansion. Many circumstances in the interior of the house, however, seemed appropriate to feudal times. The hall is very spacious, floored with stones and lighted by large transoms that are closed with casements. Its walls are hung with old military accoutrements, that have long been left a prey to the rust. At one end of the hall is a range of coats of mail and helmets, and there is on every side abundance of old-fashioned pistols and guns, many of them with matchlocks. Immediately below the cornice hangs a row of leathern jerkins, made in the form of a shirt, supposed to have been worn as armour by the vassals. A large oak table, reaching nearly from one end of the room to the other, might have feasted the whole neighbourhood, and an appendage to one end of it made it answer, at other times, for the old game of shuffle-board. The rest of the furniture is in a suitable style, particularly an aged chair of curious workmanship, an old carved chest, a grave-looking old ebony cabinet inlaid with precious stones, while the walls were hung with noble pieces of tapestry, representing the hunting of Diana, and other strange subjects of sylvan classicality.
The entrance into the hall was by a lofty porch, but there was a winding stair at one side of it, that led from the front door to a quadrangle within. At the other it opened into a gloomy staircase, by which you ascended to the first-floor, and, passing the doors of some bed-chambers, entered a narrow gallery, which extends along the back part of the house from one end to the other, and looks upon an old garden, with high walls all round it, and having niches for medallions, in which the busts of the twelve Cæsars appear in all their naked-neckedand unadorned beauty. The gallery is hung with portraits, chiefly in the Spanish dresses of the sixteenth century. In one of the bed-chambers, which you pass in going towards the gallery, is a bedstead hung with blue furniture, which time has now made dingy and thread-bare. The other bed-rooms sympathise with this, and the whole brought back to me the glory of former days.
The hall of the country squire was usually the scene of hospitality. At the upper end was placed theorsille, or high table, a little elevated above the floor, and here the master of the mansion presided, with an authority, if not a state, which almost equalled that of the potent Baron. The table was divided into upper and lower messes by a high salt-cellar, and the rank and consequence of the visitors were marked by the situation of their seats above and below the salt-cellar; a custom which not only distinguished the relative dignity of the guests, but extended likewise to the freemen; the wine frequently circulating only above the salt-cellar, and the dishes below it being of a coarser kind than those near the head of the table.
Such was an old hall in ancient times. And such remains the old hall to which I have alluded, with this difference, that the people, the manners, and the customs have changed. The old hall is now tenanted by a gentleman of birth and fortune, who is also the spiritual guide of the scattered flocks of his somewhat extensive domain. He is, indeed, the “Good Shepherd of the Sheep,” and the sheep love him and follow him. It is his delight to make all cheerful about him, and nothing affords him greater pleasure than to give a grand treat at the hall to the young people, especially the children of the villagersround him. Once a year he has what he calls a “Juvenile Day at the Hall.” He invites both rich and poor, and mingles them together for their mutual good—deemingnothing to be more delightful than the text of scripture, “rich and poor meet together, for the Lord is the maker of them all.”
The Hall
It was a beautiful day in the latter end of June, that the “Juvenile Day at the Hall” took place. The day was ushered in by the jingle of the three bells of the little church or chapel close to the hall, and within its precincts. A flag was placed upon the little tower, and festoons of flowers were tastefully arranged in the avenue that led from the church to the mansion. Presently was seen the village schoolmaster, an old cripple with a very white head, and with his “four-and-twenty free boys” in their blue jackets and cord contrivances, and looking all fresh and rosy. Then came the schoolmistress, with her “clear-starched” cap, neat muslin apron, and demure demeanour, with her “twenty-four girls” in “russet brown.”
The boys had their traps, bats, and balls, their kites, their stumps and wicket-markers, and were ready for “hog-over hie,” “prisoners’-base,” “stay-out,” or any other delightful game. And the girls were ready for a dance, or a romp, as the occasion might require—or for a roll down the slope, or for “hunt-the-slipper,” or “honey-pots,” or any other exhilirating game. Within the hall were the juveniles of higher stamp—there were the good clergyman’s sons and daughters, three of the former and four of the latter; there were also the sons and daughters of the mayor of the Town; and of the half-pay captains in the valley. Then there were the apothecary’s two daughters, so proud that their father’s occupation disgusted them; and the steward’s two sons, fine, noble looking youths, so humble, that they looked more like gentlemen,than any other persons. However, pride soon met with a fall, for the apothecary’s two daughters had a roll down the slope without stopping, a ride on the ponies, and a dance with the village-school dux—that is the boy who could do “fluxions;” and long before night, the poor and the rich, the rustic and the genteel, mingled in the most delightful harmony imaginable. The good old rector, who was all joy to see young people so happy, often found the tears coming into his eyes, and all seemed to share his sympathy.
It would be tedious for me to mention all the “noble sports” and funny entertainments the young ones amused themselves with during this happy, jolly day—from the drawing of a crooked stick for a plough, to the noble game of cricket; or hand-kites arose in various directions, or tired groups of boys exhausted their games on the great meadow. But it was a crowning joy to find the whole assembled at nightfall, just as the sun descended to his rest, to partake of a sumptuous entertainment, finished well by rich, old black-currant wine, and other innocent drinks. To hear the shouts—the hearty shouts of the youngsters—to see the beautiful rosy cheeks of the village girls, and the freshened looks of those, whose false education had made them lack-a-dasical! All were free, and hearty, and joyous, and when the “Hymn of Praise” was sung after supper, it appeared to old Peter Parley as the most delightful thing of all.
I wish those who read Peter Parley’s Annual would encourage these kind of mysteries. I mean those hundreds of rich persons who can give the “children of the poor” a treat in such a manner. Our good Queen Victoria has set us an example in this particular, which all would do well tofollow, and poor old Peter says, in consequence:—“God bless the Queen of England.”
God bless the Queen of England and happy may she reign,Through many years of peaceful strength, our freedom to maintain;May virtue be the brightest gem to sparkle in her crown,A loyal people’s ardent love the safeguard of her throne.
God bless the Queen of England and happy may she reign,Through many years of peaceful strength, our freedom to maintain;May virtue be the brightest gem to sparkle in her crown,A loyal people’s ardent love the safeguard of her throne.
God bless the Queen of England and happy may she reign,Through many years of peaceful strength, our freedom to maintain;May virtue be the brightest gem to sparkle in her crown,A loyal people’s ardent love the safeguard of her throne.
God bless the Queen of England and happy may she reign,
Through many years of peaceful strength, our freedom to maintain;
May virtue be the brightest gem to sparkle in her crown,
A loyal people’s ardent love the safeguard of her throne.
Children Playing