A Forgotten Hero | Page 7

stunted her when only half
grown. Her shoulders were unnaturally high, and one leg was
considerably shorter than the other. Her face was not in any way
beautiful, yet there was a certain mysterious attraction about it.

Something looked out of her eyes which Clarice studied without being
able to define, but which disposed her to keep on looking. They were
dark, pathetic eyes, of the kind with which Clarice had gifted her very
imaginary Countess; but there was something beyond the pathos.
"It looks," thought Clarice, "as if she had gone through the pathos and
the suffering, and had come out on the other side--on the shore of the
Golden Land, where they see what everything meant, and are satisfied."
There was very little time for conversation before the supper-bell rang.
Queen Blanche made kind inquiries concerning Heliet's lameness and
general health, but had not reached any other subject when the sound of
the bell thrilled through the room. The four girls rapidly folded up their
work, as though the summons were welcome. Queen Blanche rose and
departed, with a kindly nod to all, and Heliet, turning to Clarice, said,
"Wilt thou come down with me? I cannot go fast, as thou mayest see;
but thou wilt sit next to me, and I can tell thee anything thou mayest
wish to know."
Clarice thankfully assented, and they went down the spiral staircase
together into the great hall, where three tables were spread. At the
highest and smallest, on the dais, were already seated the Queen and
the Countess, two gentlemen, and two priests. At the head of the
second stood Mistress Underdone, next to whom was Diana, and Heliet
led up Clarice to her side. They faced the dais, so that Clarice could
watch its distinguished occupants at her pleasure. Tables for meals, at
that date, were simply boards placed on trestles, and removed when the
repast was over. On the table at the dais was silver plate, then a rare
luxury, restricted to the highest classes, the articles being spoons,
knives, plates, and goblets. There were no forks, for only one fork had
ever then been heard of as a thing to eat with, and this had been the
invention of the wife of a Doge of Venice, about two hundred years
previous, for which piece of refinement the public rewarded the lady by
considering her as proud as Lucifer. Forks existed, both in the form of
spice-forks and fire-forks, but no one ever thought of eating with them
in England until they were introduced from Italy in the reign of James
the First, and for some time after that the use of them marked either a

traveller, or a luxurious, effeminate man. Moreover, there were no
knives nor spoons provided for helping one's self from the dishes. Each
person had a knife and spoon for himself, with which he helped himself
at his convenience. People who were very delicate and particular wiped
their knives on a piece of bread before doing so, and licked their spoons
all over. When these were the practices of fastidious people, the
proceedings of those who were not such may be discreetly left to
imagination. The second table was served in a much more ordinary
manner. In this instance the knife was iron and the spoon pewter, the
plate a wooden trencher (never changed), and the drinking-cup of horn.
In the midst of the table stood a pewter salt-cellar, formed like a castle,
and very much larger than we use them now.
This salt-cellar acted as a barometer, not for weather, but for rank.
Every one of noble blood, or filling certain offices, sat above the salt.
With respect to cooking our fathers had some peculiarities. They ate
many things that we never touch, such as porpoises and herons, and
they used all manner of green things as vegetables. They liked their
bread hot from the oven (to give cold bread, even for dinner, was a
shabby proceeding), and their meat much underdone, for they thought
that overdone meat stirred up anger. They mixed most incongruous
things together; they loved very strong tastes, delighting in garlic and
verjuice; they never appear to have paid the slightest regard to their
digestion, and they were, in the most emphatic sense, not teetotallers.
The dining-hall, but not the table, was decorated with flowers, and
singers, often placed in a gallery at one end, were employed the whole
time. A gentleman usher acted as butler, and a yeoman was always at
hand to keep out strange dogs, snuff candles, and light to bed the guests,
who were not always in a condition to find their way upstairs without
his help. The hours at this time were nine or ten o'clock for dinner
(except on fast-days, when it was