The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 1 (of 2), Page 3

  CHAP. III.

  A branch of May we have brought you, And at your door it stands; It is but a sprout, But it's well budded out, By the work of our Lord's hands.

  The hedges and trees they are so green, As green as any leek; Our heavenly Father he watereth them, With his heavenly dew so sweet. _From the Mayer's Song._

  The morning star glittered brightly above the fine old tower ofCheddar church, and the low parsonage lay still and asleep amid theflowers and the dewy grass plots of its pleasant garden, as advancing,from beneath the ancient yew in the churchyard, to the wicket oppositethe good vicar's porch, a party of hale young rustics with colouredribands in their hats and on their loose white sleeves, planted, oneither side the entrance, a fine branch of white thorn in fullblossom, and struck up, with full and cheerful voices, the veryancient medley from which the stanzas at the head of our presentchapter are taken. They had not sung two verses before the door of theparsonage was opened by a merry looking old serving man--two lasses'heads were thrust from a window over the kitchen--the mistress's goodhumoured eyes were seen over a white chamber blind,--and the parsonhimself, with a face as expressive of joy as a child's, though markedwith the furrows of seven-and-sixty years, came forth to the wicket ina loose morning gown, with a black scull-cap on his silvery hairs, andlistened, with a motion of the lips, that showed his voice, though notaudible, and his kind heart were attuned to theirs, and to the comingholyday. When their song was done, he dismissed them with hisblessing, with the customary gift of silver, and with a caution tokeep their festival with gladness and innocence, and with the love ofbrothers; letting the poor and aged fare the better for it.

  "And let us have no brawls on the ale bench," said the oldparson,--"let our May-pole be the rod of peace; so that none may railat our sports and dances, but rather take note of us as merry folk andhonest neighbours."

  With loud thanks, and lively promises, and rude invocations ofHeaven's best gifts on him, and his lady, and his absent sons, theparty now faced about, and with the accompaniment of pipe and tabor,and a couple of fiddles, moved off at a dancing pace to pay the likehonours at the door of the chief franklin, and to deck the villagestreet as they passed along.

  Parson Noble now passed round to his favourite terrace walk, thatoverlooked a rich and extensive level, and taking up his lute, whichlay in a little alcove at one end of it, he breathed out his morninghymn of thanksgiving, as was his wont, and thus composed, went intohis study, and secluded himself for an hour from all interruption. Atthe close he again came into his garden, where he commonly labouredboth for pleasure and health, every day of his life, in company withthe attached old servant, who, for his quaint words and ways, hadbeen long known to the village by the name of plain Peter,--anepithet, which, as it gave him credit for blunt honesty, as well asfor a cast in his eye, he readily pardoned,--nay, some said he wasproud of it;--for what manner of man is it that hath not a pride insomething?

  "Master," said Peter, putting down his rake as the parson came up thewalk, "I have won a silver groat on your words this day."

  "How so? what dost thou mean, Peter?"

  "Why, last market day, when I was in the kitchen at the old Pack Horseat Axbridge, that vinegar-faced old hypocrite, Master Pynche, thestaymaker, comes in, and asks me to bring out Betsy Blount's newstays.

  "Says I, 'That I'll do for Betsy's sake,--a lass that hasn't herbetter for a good heart, or a pretty face, in all Somersetshire.'

  "'Verily, Master Peter, I think,' said he, 'thy speech might have morerespect to me, and more decency to the damsel, but thou savourest notof the things that be from above:--thou art of the earth, earthy.'

  "'Why, for the matter of things above,' said I, 'Master Pynche, Idon't pretend to any skill in moonshine; and as to being of the earth,that I don't deny, and thirsty earth too; with that I put to my lipsthe cup of ale that I had in hand, and drank it down.'

  "'Is it not written,' he replied in a snuffling tone, 'that favour isdeceitful, and beauty is vain?--but thou art a servant of Beelzebub,and thou speakest the words of thy master, and his works wilt thoudo.'

  "'In the name of plain Peter,' I added, 'herewith I proclaim youPrince of Fools, and I will send you a coloured coat, and a hood andbells, and thou shalt have a bauble, and a bladder of pease, and alicence to preach next April.'

  "With that he lifted up his eyes and hands, and muttering somethingabout pearls and swine, glided off like a ghost at cock crow."

  "Peter," interrupted Noble, "thou shouldst not have said such things."

  "Marry, did he not call me a servant of Beelzebub? the peevish oldpuritan!--Well, but to go on with my story. The folk in Dame Wattle'skitchen fell a discoursing after Pynche was gone; and some spake upafter a fashion that made my hair stand up. Says a sturdy pedlar inthe corner,--'Ay, they'll soon be uppermost, and the sooner thebetter; rot 'em, I don't like 'em, the godly rogues; but they arebetter than parsons, any way.'

  "So with that I felt my blood come up, and I was going to speak, whenold Hardy, the cobbler, took up his words, and says he, 'That's trueof some, and it's true of our old Tosspot; but there's Peter's master,of Cheddar,--you may search the country far and near before you willfind his like. I remember when my niece Sally lay dying, night andday, fair weather and foul, he would trudge through mire or snow togive her medicine for body as well as soul, and that's what I call agood parson.'"

  "'A good puritan,' said Dame Wattle. 'I have heard of his sayings anddoings, and trust me, he'll go with your parliament men, yourdown-church men: you'll never have any more May-games and Christmasgambols at Cheddar.'

  "'There you're out, Dame,' said I, 'and don't know any more aboutMaster Noble than a child unborn.'

  "'A silver crown to a silver groat he'll give a long preachmentagainst the May-pole next May-morning.'

  "'Done with you, Dame,' said I.

  "'You may lay a golden angel to a penny there will be no May-poles atall, if you make it May twelvemonth,' said the pedlar, 'without,indeed, there be such as have pikes at the end of them;' and with thathe pulled out a printed paper, that he brought from London, and readout a long matter about the king and the bishops, and about churchorgans, and tithes, and play actors, and ship money, and MasterHampden; and made out, as plain as a pike staff, that there would bemany a good buff coat and iron head piece taken down from the wallbefore long. 'We shall have a civil war soon, and God defend theright,' said he, as he folded up the paper and took up his pack.

  "Civil," thought I, "that's a queer word. I have heard talk of civilpeople and civil speeches, but a civil blow from a battle-axe is anew thing. I'll tell master all about it when I get home, and axe whatit means;--but as I was on the path in Nine Acres, whom should I meetbut Master Blount, the young one, and he made me promise not to say aword to you before May-day was come, for fear the old sports might behindered; and he told me that civil war meant war at home; for which Ididn't think him much of a conjuror, as my guess had reached that far:and now, Master, prithee tell me what civil means."

  "Peter, thou art an honest fellow, and as good a citizen as if thouknewest what it was called in Latin, and that a civil war was a war ofcitizens, but of a truth this is no matter for smiles; however,'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' This is no morning fora cloudy face."

  "Well, then, here comes one, and the worst that darkens our doors. Formy part, I can't bide the sight of it, 't would turn all the milk inthe dairy."

  The vicar looked over his hedge, and saw the curate of a parish withwhom he was but slightly acquainted, walking across the last close,which led by a footway into his orchard. The apple-trees concealedNoble from his approaching visiter, who, just as he reached the gateof the orchard, overtook a little boy, about nine years of age,carrying in his hand a cluster of cowslips half as big as himself, andhaving a thick crown of field flowers round his straw hat.

  With a severe scowl, he snatched the cowslips from the frightenedchil
d, and threw them away, and then made a gripe at his little hat;but, the boy drawing back with a blubbering cry, the zealous and tallcurate, who had a little over-reached himself, slipped and fell proneupon the grass. This, however, was the lightest part of hismisfortune; for it so chanced that his face came in full contact witha new-made rain-puddle, and he arose with his eyes half blinded, andhis face covered and besmeared with mud. With the tears yet rollingdown his red cheeks, the little fellow, as he saw himself avenged ina measure so contenting, and a manner so ridiculous, ran out of hisreach, literally shrieking with laughter; and a hearty roar from oldPeter at once completed his mortification, and determined his retreat.This soon became a maddened flight: for a sleeping dog roused by thenoise of the laughter pursued him with angry barkings, from which, ashe had no staff, and the grassy close could furnish no stone, therewas no escape till the wearied animal paused and turned.

  The whole of this scene was so very swiftly enacted, that Noble had noopportunity to say or do any thing in the matter; and charity itselfcould not suppress a smile at a punishment so well suited to themorosity which had led to it. Neither was he at all sorry to berelieved upon this festal day from the intrusive visit of a sour,ill-instructed fanatic, whose opinions he could not value, and forwhose character he felt no respect. He looked, therefore, with unmixedsatisfaction at the laughing urchin, as he gathered up his scatteredwealth, and departed.

  Now merrily rang out the lively bells of Cheddar Tower; and alreadywas every street a green alley, freshened by thick boughs, and madefragrant by small branches of white thorn neatly interwoven.

  The house of the chief franklin, Mr. Blount, was more especiallyhonoured. Before his door was planted the largest and fairest branchof May that could be found in a circuit of five good miles, and hishospitable porch was made a rich bower of shrubs and flowers. Beneaththe tall trees in front of it was a little crowd of youths andmaidens, in holyday trim, wearing garlands, with green rushes andstrewing herbs in their arms, or aprons: full they were of smiles andglee; and, out on the road, all the village was assembled, save theinfirm old and the cradled young; though, of these last, not a fewwere borne in their mothers' arms, or lifted up with honest pride inthose of their brown fathers, whose burning toils a field were, forthis joyous day, forgotten.

  From the words passing in these expectant groups, a stranger mightsoon have gathered that something more than the common sport ofMay-day was engaging the honest and buzzing mob of men, women, andchildren, that blocked the street opposite this goodly mansion, andwhat that something was. "Better day better luck."--"A bonny bride issoon dressed."--"Honest men marry soon," said a black-eyed, nut-brownwife, with a lively babe in her arms, and two curly-headed little onesholding her apron,--and "Wise men not at all," added a gruff oldblacksmith, with a seamed visage.--"Ah, it's no good kicking infetters, Roger," rejoined the laughing wife, at the same time givingher infant into the horny hands of a stout young woodman, with a greendoublet and a clean white collar, who held it up, kicking andshrieking with delight, as though it would spring out of his arms, andchimed in with "Ah, Master Roger, it's an ill house where the hencrows loudest."--"Ah, thou'lt find that some day, Stephen;" for thishe got a heavy slap on his shoulder from the young wife, whose comingwords were checked by the sound of fiddles, as the bridal processioncame forth. "Dear heart," said she, "how pretty Bessy does look inthat lilac gown with brave red guardings and the golden cawl on herfair hair, and what a beautiful lace rochet she has."--"Ah, finefeathers make fine birds," said a spinster standing near.--"He's aproper man is young Hargood, and should have known better than choosea wife by the eye."--"She had rather kiss than spin, I'llwarrant."--"Better be half hanged than ill wed."--"You may know a foolby her finery."--"A precious stone should be well set," said the youngwife, sharply, "and Bessy's blue eyes and her blushing cheeks aresmall matters to her ways and words." But envy and ill will werelow-voiced, and confined to few, for old Blount and all his house werewell loved by the people; and with many a word of cheerful greetingthey made way for the party, and the most of them followed it to thechurch.

  The procession was led by a few youths and maidens, with whom were allthe musicians of the village; while others, walking immediately beforethe bride and her two bride maidens, strewed the ground, as they went,with rushes and herbs. The bridegroom, in a suit of violet-colouredcloth, guarded with velvet of the deepest crimson, and with a fallingcollar of worked linen, followed, supported by his bridesmen, in fitbravery of apparel; next came a group of relations, male and female,led by the old franklin himself, with his grave and comely wife, andthe men and maids of his household brought up the rear of theprocession. It was met at the churchyard gate by Parson Noble and hiswife,--she joining old Mrs. Blount, and the good vicar, in his snowysurplice, taking place at the head of it, immediately between theherb-strewers and the bridal party; and now a gravity and silencesucceeded, and in decency and order all entered the church, andproceeded with quiet steps to the altar. There, the sweet and solemnservice, which binds together for "better for worse, for richer forpoorer, in sickness and in health, till death do part," was reverentlyand impressively performed by Noble, his own deep and mellow tonesbeing only interrupted by the manly voice of the bridegroom, and thefaltering accents of the shy and trembling bride, as they gaveutterance to their heart's true and hallowed responses. No sooner wasthe ceremony ended than the bells, which had, for a while, beensilent, struck out with the wedding peal; and as the new marriedcouple came forth into the churchyard the air was rent with the joyousacclamations of the crowd without; and the procession returned innearly the same order as it had left the house of the worthy franklin,only, according to the good custom of the time, the parson made one ofthe wedding party, and partook of the marriage feast.

  Such of the old as could not walk abroad, stood leaning on staves, orsat dim-eyed on the stones before their doors, to see or hear thebridal train pass down; for each of these Parson Noble and thefranklin had a kind word as they went by, returned by the benison andgood wishes for the bride, who had herself no voice for any one, and,supported on her husband's arm, scarce saw her path through eyes thatwere filling from a happy bosom's overflow.

  We shall not detain our reader by describing the dinner at MasterBlount's; right plentiful was the cheer. Parson Noble said a grace inrhyme, out of old Tom Tusser's book of Husbandry, to the greatcontentment of his hospitable host, that being the one book by which,after his Bible, Blount squared his honest life.

  "God sendeth and giveth both mouth and the meat, And blesseth us all with his benefits great; Then serve we the God, who so richly doth give, Show love to our neighbours, and lay for to live."

  This being the franklin's rule,--while his guests were feasted in theold oak parlour, at the back of the house; in the pleasant orchard,all his labourers were regaled with a hearty meal of meat andplum-porridge; and huge jacks of ale were emptied and replenished, tothe health of bride and bridegroom and good master.

  After due carvings of veal and bacon, unlacing of fat capons, anduntrussing of great pies of fruit and other dainties, in the parlour,and after some mantling cups of wine drank to the happy pair, the oldpeople yielded to the impatience of the young, and all adjourned toRobin's Meadow, not, however, before they had sung, as the grace aftermeat, a short psalm of praise.

  The meadow, in which from generations before the May-pole was raised,had a fine level sward, which Blount kept smooth as a bowling-groundfor the dancers, while a part of it rose in swelling banks, shaded bytrees. These, though, as yet, but in early leaf, were gaily green, andcontrasted well with the many-coloured and blushing wreaths offield-flowers that wound about the May-pole, at the top of whichglittered a small crown, newly gilded in honour of the wedding, andfurther adorned with a few of the rarest plants which the gardens ofCheddar could produce.

  A pleasure it was, as they passed into the meadow, to see the happychildren rolling and tumbling and racing down the steep bank, fromwhich they now scrambled away, to make
room for the franklin's party,and for the elders of the village, who, from this grassy knoll, werewont to preside over the pastimes of this holyday. We give not thisscene in detail:--the dances of the young, as, with light and elasticsteps, they bounded to lively measures round the May-pole, and thenodding heads of the musicians keeping time with the dancers, and theraces and gambols of the ruddy children, each reader may figure forthto his own fancy. Neither tell we of the pretty ceremonies with whichthe milk maids brought their cows, with horns all garlanded, into theadjoining close, and prepared and offered the delicious syllabub: ouraim is only to give an outline of a village May-day of the times ofwhich we write, and to show the good parson of the best school of thatperiod mingling in mirth among his people. Leaving, therefore, thehappy villagers to continue their sports till set of sun, we shallconfine ourselves to the steps of the pastor, and complete the journalof his day.

  As the chimes struck six o'clock, he quietly withdrew, and passed fromthe scenes of pleasure and feasting to those of sickness and ofmourning. If he had regarded the former with complacent joy, he wasnot the less willing, nor the less prepared, to cheer the latter withthose high contemplations and those tender sympathies to which, byfaith, as a Christian, he could point, and which, in charity, as aman, he truly felt. Of the old, who were confined to their ownthresholds, he found two or three cross and short, but most of themgarrulous, and in good humour. They had got pleasant portions from thefranklin, and they could tell of old May-days, and heard, withthankful nods and ready "ayes," and strong fetchings of the breath,that were not sighs of grief, the grave good words with which hetaught them how only they could die in peace.

  Of his flock only one lay at the point of death, and her he visitedlast.

  She was the miller's daughter, and had been the May-queen of thebygone year. Sacred be such visit, in its most solemn communings! butwe may paint the scene of it, and the trifles which belong to thosesympathies of our humanity, that often survive the resigned hope oflife.

  In a tall chair, against the back of which she leaned her head, sate apale maiden, warmly wrapped in a robe of white woollen, close to thesmall window of an upper chamber, on which the evening sun shone warm:curling honey-suckles did make a frame to it; and one rose, with anopening bud, peeped from the trained bush beneath. Upon a little tablenear her stood a fragrant branch of May in a cup of water. There werefaint flushes in her transparent cheeks, and there was an unearthlybrightness in her eyes--not fitful--but a calm, steady, serene ray,that, as the declining sun poured over the damsel its yellow glories,presented her to the thoughtful gazer such as she might be whentreading the celestial courts above.

  "And have you any other wish, my child?" said Noble, as he rose to go.

  "Yes, if it be not too foolish."

  "Tell it, my dear."

  "I would like some flowers from the May-pole strewn on mywinding-sheet, and a bit of rosemary from your own garden put in myhands."

  "And you shall have them," said Noble, pressing her wan hand in his,and turning quick away.