Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction
These apprehensions were not altogether ill-founded. It was in vain that
the steward had displayed the royal standard, with its proud motto of
_Tandem Triumphans_, on one of the great towers which flanked the main
entrance of the Castle; while, from the other, floated the banner of
Peveril of the Peak, under which many of those who now approached had
fought during all the vicissitudes of civil war. It was in vain he
repeated his clamorous “Welcome, noble Cavaliers! welcome, generous
gentlemen!” There was a slight murmur amongst them, that their welcome
ought to have come from the mouth of the Colonel’s lady--not from that
of a menial. Sir Jasper Cranbourne, who had sense as well as spirit and
courage, and who was aware of his fair cousin’s motives, having been
indeed consulted by her upon all the arrangements which she had adopted,
saw matters were in such a state that no time ought to be lost in
conducting the guests to the banqueting apartment, where a fortunate
diversion from all these topics of rising discontent might be made, at
the expense of the good cheer of all sorts, which the lady’s care had so
liberally provided.
The stratagem of the old soldier succeeded in its utmost extent. He
assumed the great oaken-chair usually occupied by the steward at his
audits; and Dr. Dummerar having pronounced a brief Latin benediction
(which was not the less esteemed by the hearers that none of them
understood it), Sir Jasper exhorted the company to wet their appetites
to the dinner by a brimming cup to his Majesty’s health, filled as high
and as deep as their goblets would permit. In a moment all was bustle,
with the clank of wine-cups and of flagons. In another moment the guests
were on their feet like so many statues, all hushed as death, but with
eyes glancing with expectation, and hands outstretched, which displayed
their loyal brimmers. The voice of Sir Jasper, clear, sonorous, and
emphatic, as the sound of his war-trumpet, announced the health of the
restored Monarch, hastily echoed back by the assemblage, impatient to
render it due homage. Another brief pause was filled by the draining of
their cups, and the mustering breath to join in a shout so loud, that
not only the rafters of the old hall trembled while they echoed it
back, but the garlands of oaken boughs and flowers with which they
were decorated, waved wildly, and rustled as if agitated by a sudden
whirlwind. This rite observed, the company proceeded to assail the good
cheer with which the table groaned, animated as they were to the attack
both by mirth and melody, for they were attended by all the minstrels
of the district, who, like the Episcopal clergy, had been put to silence
during the reign of the self-entitled saints of the Commonwealth. The
social occupation of good eating and drinking, the exchange of pledges
betwixt old neighbours who had been fellow-soldiers in the moment of
resistance--fellow-sufferers in the time of depression and subjugation,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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