John and Betty's History Visit Part 15

what lots of things happened here!"

Not far away are splendid Chatsworth House, one of the palaces of the Duke of Devonshire, and lovely Haddon Hall, with its romantic story, and both of these famous places received a visit from Mrs. Pitt and her party.

Chatsworth, I am afraid, was not fully appreciated by our friends. It has a most beautiful situation--in the valley of the Derwent, which rushes along through the extensive park; the house itself is magnificent--filled with fine marble halls and rooms, and costly treasures of art; and in the gardens almost every sovereign of Europe seems to have planted some kind of a tree. One curious thing did wonderfully please the children's fancy; that is, a marvelous weeping-willow tree, from the metal twigs and branches of which tiny streams of water come at a sign from the gardener. But somehow, on the whole, Chatsworth is cold and unfeeling, and failed to appeal to the party.

Not so was it with Haddon Hall! The most prosaic summer tourist could hardly fail to be moved by admiration of its delights. It is still a real home, and seems alive with memories of the fair Dorothy Vernon and her family. The old castle has scarcely changed at all since the sixteenth century, and one feels as though the great lords and ladies of Queen Elizabeth's time had thoughtfully stepped out on the terrace, in order that we might wander through their n.o.ble old dwelling.

The custodian was having her afternoon-tea when the party arrived; she did not think of hurrying in the slightest, but leisurely finished this most important meal, and then received the visitors' fees and allowed them to enter.

"I feel as though I had walked into a story!" remarked Betty quietly.

"Is Dorothy at home?"

The various buildings of Haddon Hall are built around two square courts. The oldest bit is the ancient chapel, in part dating from Norman times, and in which the Vernon family worshiped for four hundred years. It still contains some old wooden pews, and traces of grotesque paintings may be seen upon its walls.

"Where are we going now?" whispered Barbara, keeping close to Betty, as the guide led them down a very dark pa.s.sage, with an uneven stone floor. "Oh, it's the kitchen!"

A light had now been struck, and the huge fireplaces of this kitchen of bygone days could be seen. Everything seemed complete, even to the woodbox which once held the tremendous logs.

"How in the world could they see to cook in such a dark place?"

inquired the practical John.

"Oh, there were probably great torches fastened to the walls, and then there are some tiny windows. When your eyes grow accustomed to the dim light, you can see fairly well. I should think, though, that once in a while, the cook might have put a little too much salt in the pasty,"

Mrs. Pitt replied laughingly.

An exceedingly curious feature of Haddon's Banqueting-hall is an iron bracket with a ring, which is between the entrance doors. Naturally, Mrs. Pitt was called upon to explain this.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT STILL SEEMS ALIVE WITH MEMORIES OF THE FAIR DOROTHY VERNON."--_Page 217._]

"Well," said she, "it's worth an explanation, for it has a strange purpose. Any guest who could not or would not drink as much as was required of him by the laws of hospitality, had his arm fastened up to that ring, and what he had refused to take was poured down his sleeve.

Fancy! For my part, I should consider that a sad waste! Speaking of drinking, I wonder if you really know what it means when a man pledges or drinks a health. It's a very ancient custom! Back in the days of Saxon England, it very often happened that a man would be stabbed while drinking, so it became the habit for him to turn to his neighbor and ask if he would 'pledge' him. If he agreed, his duty was to keep guard over his friend who wished to drink. A trace of this caution still exists at Queen's College, Oxford. There the students who wait upon the 'fellows,' stand behind them and place their right thumbs upon the table."

The round steps in the Long Gallery are said to have been cut from one great oak, grown on the estate. Up these they went, and followed the guide to the celebrated Ball-room, which is so often and so beautifully pictured. This long room is exquisite with its carved paneling, polished, inlaid floor, and lovely bay-windows overlooking the terrace.

"Here the ball was in progress at the time of Dorothy Vernon's escape.

It was the wedding night of Dorothy's sister, wasn't it? At any rate, while every one was engrossed in the dancing and merrymaking, Dorothy quietly slipped away, ran through this door here, along the terrace, and out to a certain tree in the park where her lover was awaiting her with the horses. That's the story, and certainly it is a pretty one,"

concluded Mrs. Pitt.

Just off the Ball-room is the State Bed-room, which claims to have had Queen Elizabeth as an occupant. The great bed, fourteen feet six inches high, is considered one of the finest in England, and is finished in green velvet and white satin.

They strolled out through Dorothy Vernon's door and along the lovely terrace, over which the solemn yew-trees hang low. From here is seen a charming view of the garden, hemmed in upon one side by that part of the castle containing the Ball-room. The sun was just setting as they lingered upon the steps of the terrace, and it flooded everything with a golden light. The scene was so beautiful that all were silent as they gazed and gazed. Betty finally rose with a deep sigh, and said:

"Well, I suppose Dorothy knew what she was about, but I'm sure that I should never have run away from Haddon Hall!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WINCHESTER, SALISBURY, AND STONEHENGE

It was not until they were well on their way toward Winchester, that Mrs. Pitt found a chance to tell the young people something about that ancient city which they were so soon to see.

"Winchester has a cathedral, hasn't it?" Betty had inquired. "I always like to see those."

"Yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Pitt. "There surely is a cathedral, for it's the longest one in all Europe with the exception of St. Peter's at Rome. I'm certain you will enjoy that; but what I think you'll appreciate even more are the a.s.sociations which Winchester has with the life of Alfred the Great. You all remember about him, don't you!"

"The fellow who burnt the cakes?" put in John, jeeringly.

"Yes, but he was also 'the fellow' who led his army at a time when the country was in great danger--who dressed as a minstrel and dared to go even into the very camp of the enemy, so as to investigate their movements. You certainly like that in him, John?"

"I know it! That was great!" John answered warmly. "Please tell us some more about him, Mrs. Pitt."

"To me he has always been one of the most lovable as well as admirable characters in all our English history. He came to the throne at a time when his wise leadership was greatly needed, and he fought long and valiantly for his country. When he burnt the cakes, John, it was merely because his thoughts were so busy with the plans for England's future. Alfred made Winchester the capital of his whole realm, and here he lived with all the court, when there was peace in the land.

Part of Alfred's boyhood had been spent here, too, when he was the pupil of the wise St. Swithin; and, at Winchester, he made the good and just laws for which he will always be remembered. Within the walls of old Wolvesley Castle, the famous 'Anglo-Saxon Chronicle' was commenced, at the command of the King. But besides all these useful deeds, Alfred had such a beautiful personality that his family and all the people of his kingdom loved him, and called him 'the perfect King.' I have long admired this little tribute which one historian has given Alfred the Great. He says this; I think these are the very words: 'He was loved by his father and mother, and even by all the people, above all by his brothers. As he advanced through the years of infancy and youth, his form appeared more comely than that of his brothers; in look, in speech, and in manners, he was more graceful than they. His n.o.ble nature implanted in him from his cradle a love of wisdom above all things.' And so, through all the centuries between his time and ours, King Alfred's name has stood for all that is just, kind, wise, and beautiful."

"Where was King Alfred buried, Mother?" asked Barbara.

"I'll show you his grave--or what is supposed to be his. But here we are at Winchester now!" cried Mrs. Pitt; "and the sun has come out just for our special benefit, too!"

In a "cathedral town," one is usually drawn first of all to the cathedral itself, it being the central point about which the whole town seems to cl.u.s.ter; and so it was that Mrs. Pitt led the way down the shaded walk between the broad stretches of lawn surrounding the great structure. To her great disappointment, an ugly net-work of staging entirely spoiled the effect of the exterior of the building.

"I once read a book which an American wrote about his trip abroad,"

related Mrs. Pitt. "It amused me very much! After visiting a really remarkable number of churches and important buildings which were undergoing reconstruction or strengthening, this gentleman ventured the belief that the authorities must have made a mistake in the date of his arrival, for everything seemed to point to the preparation of a splendid reception to him anywhere from a week to a month later. I feel that way to-day. The Winchester people certainly could not have expected us just yet. It's a pity that we cannot see this grand cathedral at its best!"

The usual feeling of quiet awe came over the party upon entering the edifice, and this was here somehow increased by the vastness of the interior. Their footsteps echoed strangely on the stone floor, and looking up at the arches above her head, Betty began to walk about on tiptoe.

"The marriage of Queen Mary with Philip of Spain took place in this cathedral," Mrs. Pitt said. "In Bishop Langton's Chapel here, is an old chair said to have been used by the Queen at the ceremony. Notice the six wooden chests above that screen. They contain the bones of some of the old, old kings--William Rufus, Canute, Egbert, Ethelwolf, and others. Once upon a time, there was a very famous shrine here--that of St. Swithin. You remember the legend which tells how the body of that saint was delayed from being removed to the chapel already fitted to receive it, by forty days of rain. That's why when we have nasty, rainy weather in England, we always blame St. Swithin.

"I'll show you the tomb of the well-known auth.o.r.ess, Jane Austen, and that of Izaak Walton, who is buried in one of the chapels. The former lived her last days and died in this town, and it was in the little river Itchen which flows through Winchester, that Izaak Walton used to fish. They were both laid to rest here in the cathedral, near the scenes which they dearly loved."

The environs of the cathedral are very pretty, and one of the most picturesque features is the old Deanery, where Charles II once lodged.

Just outside the cathedral close is the modest little house which was Jane Austen's home.

Winchester School was visited,--a very famous old inst.i.tution which is connected with New College, Oxford, and was built by William of Wykeham in 1396,--and the vine-covered ruins of old Wolvesley Castle, which stand on the outskirts of the town, and near the river.

"Didn't you say that this was where King Alfred had them write the 'Anglo-Saxon Chronicle'?" Betty asked of Mrs. Pitt. "Will you please tell us what that was? I don't seem to remember very well."

"Well, dear, the 'Anglo-Saxon Chronicle' is the 'first history of the English People,' as some one has correctly said. Part of it was written by Alfred himself, and the rest was done by others, under his direction. It is simply a record of all important events which were written down as they took place. The 'Chronicle' grew and grew for about two hundred and fifty years, the last mention being of the accession to the throne of Henry II, in 1154. For many years it was kept here at its birthplace, but it has now been moved to the library of Corpus Christi College at Oxford. You see, therefore, that this important work really marked the start of the wonderful succession of literary productions which Englishmen have brought forth in these one thousand years."

Quite at the other end of the town from Wolvesley Castle is the County Court, a fine old hall, which once upon a time formed part of a castle built by William the Conqueror. Mrs. Pitt had some difficulty in finding the caretaker who could admit them, and not until they were actually inside did the children understand why she was so very anxious that they should see it.

Many were the exclamations of delight, however, when the guide pointed to the wall at one end of the Norman room, and told them that the round, flat object hanging thereupon was "King Arthur's Round Table."

"What!" cried Betty, her mouth wide open in her excitement, "the very table at which the knights sat!--Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain, Sir Perceval, Sir Galahad, and all the rest! Why, I never knew it was here, or I should have come to see it before anything else! To think of it's being the real table!"

It was hard for Mrs. Pitt to tell Betty that all the legends concerning this table are pure fiction. "Not all authorities consider its ident.i.ty absolutely certain," she admitted unwillingly, "but we're going to believe in it just the same. It must date from the sixth century! Fancy! However, it was all repainted in the time of Henry VIII, and these peculiar stripes and devices were the work of some sixteenth century brush."

Betty sat right down on the floor, and stared up at the table of her adored King Arthur and his knights. With much difficulty could Mrs.