to
provide for the horses of troopers and knights; a coach stands in a
hovel,--a kind of lumbering chest on leather straps, but nevertheless
the pride of the family. The house is surrounded by walls and moats
with drawbridges; massive locks and strong iron work defend the
entrances, for the country is still insecure. Gipsies and bands of
marauders lurk in the neighbourhood, and the daily conversation is of
robberies and horrible murders. There is great regularity both in house
and village, and strict order is kept by the squire amongst his
children, servants, and retainers; but many wild figures may be still
seen about the court-yard,--disbanded soldiers who have taken service
as messengers, foresters, halberdiers, &c. The village school is in sad
decay, but the squire's children receive instruction from a poor
scholar. The squire wears a wig with flowing curls; instead of the
knightly sword, a slender rapier hangs at his side; in society his
movements and conversation are stiff and formal; the townspeople call
him your honour, and his daughter has become "fraulein" and
"damoiselle;" the lady of the house wears a bunch of keys at her side;
she is great in receipts and superstitious remedies, and her repose is
troubled by ghostly apparitions in the old tower of the castle. When a
visitor approaches, the spinning-wheel is hidden, an embroidered dress
is quickly put on, the scanty family treasures of silver goblets and
tankards laid out on the sideboard, a groom, who is just capable of
making a bow, is hastily put into livery, and perfumes are burnt in
the room. The young squire when he visits appears as a gallant a la
mode,--in lace coat and wig, and pays the most fulsome compliments to
the lady of the house; he is her most devoted slave, he extols the
daughter as a heart-enslaver, and declares that she is quite angelic in
her appearance; but these finely turned compliments are bad sauce to
coarse manners, and are generally interspersed with stable language and
oaths. When conversation begins to flow more freely, it is directed by
preference to subjects which are no longer ambiguous, and women listen,
not with the naivete of former times, but with secret pleasure, to the
boldness of such language, for it is the fashion to relate improper
anecdotes, and by enigmatical questions to produce a pretty affected
embarrassment in the ladies. But even such conversation soon wearies,
and the wine begins to circulate, the hilarity be