Old Christmas | Page 9

Washington Irving
in general, is known simply by
the appellation of 'The Squire;' a title which has been accorded to the
head of the family since time immemorial. I think it best to give you
these hints about my worthy old father, to prepare you for any little
eccentricities that might otherwise appear absurd."
* Peacham's "Complete Gentleman," 1622.
We had passed for some time along the wall of a park, and at length the
chaise stopped at the gate. It was in a heavy, magnificent old style, of
iron bars, fancifully wrought at top into flourishes and flowers. The
huge square columns that supported the gate were surmounted by the
family crest. Close adjoining was the porter's lodge, sheltered under
dark fir-trees, and almost buried in shrubbery.
The post-boy rang a large porter's bell, which resounded through the
still, frosty air, and was answered by the distant barking of dogs, with
which the mansion-house seemed garrisoned. An old woman
immediately appeared at the gate. As the moonlight fell strongly upon
her, I had full view of a little primitive dame, dressed very much in the
antique taste, with a neat kerchief and stomacher, and her silver hair
peeping from under a cap of snowy whiteness. She came curtseying
forth, with many expressions of simple joy at seeing her young master.
Her husband, it seems, was up at the house keeping Christmas eve in
the servants' hall; they could not do without him, as he was the best
hand at a song and story in the household.
My friend proposed that we should alight and walk through the park to
the hall, which was at no great distance, while the chaise should follow

on. Our road wound through a noble avenue of trees, among the naked
branches of which the moon glittered as she rolled through the deep
vault of a cloudless sky. The lawn beyond was sheeted with a slight
covering of snow, which here and there sparkled as the moonbeams
caught a frosty crystal; and at a distance might be seen a thin,
transparent vapour, stealing up from the low grounds, and threatening
gradually to shroud the landscape.
My companion looked round him with transport:--"How often," said he,
"have I scampered up this avenue, on returning home on school
vacations! How often have I played under these trees when a boy! I feel
a degree of filial reverence for them, as we look up to those who have
cherished us in childhood. My father was always scrupulous in
exacting our holidays, and having us around him on family festivals.
He used to direct and superintend our games with the strictness that
some parents do the studies of their children. He was very particular
that we should play the old English games according to their original
form and consulted old books for precedent and authority for every
'merrie disport;' yet I assure you there never was pedantry so delightful.
It was the policy of the good old gentleman to make his children feel
that home was the happiest place in the world; and I value this
delicious home- feeling as one of the choicest gifts a parent can
bestow."
We were interrupted by the clangour of a troop of dogs of all sorts and
sizes, "mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, and curs of low degree,"
that, disturbed by the ringing of the porter's bell, and the rattling of the
chaise, came bounding, open-mouthed, across the lawn.
"The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart--see, they bark at
me!"
cried Bracebridge, laughing. At the sound of his voice the bark was
changed into a yelp of delight, and in a moment he was surrounded and
almost overpowered by the caresses of the faithful animals.
We had now come in full view of the old family mansion, partly
thrown in deep shadow, and partly lit up by the cold moonshine. It was

an irregular building of some magnitude, and seemed to be of the
architecture of different periods. One wing was, evidently very ancient,
with heavy stone-shafted bow windows jutting out and overrun with
ivy, from among the foliage of which the small diamond-shaped panes
of glass glittered with the moonbeams. The rest of the house was in the
French taste of Charles the Second's time, having been repaired and
altered, as my friend told me, by one of his ancestors, who returned
with that monarch at the Restoration. The grounds about the house
were laid out in the old formal manner of artificial flower-beds, clipped
shrubberies, raised terraces, and heavy stone balustrades, ornamented
with urns, a leaden statue or two, and a jet of water. The old gentleman,
I was told, was extremely careful to preserve this obsolete finery in all
its original state. He admired this fashion in gardening; it had an
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