“Those who have never seen Haddon Hall, the ancient residence of the
Vernons of Derbyshire, can have but an imperfect notion of the golden
days of old England. Though now deserted and dilapidated, its halls
silent, the sacred bell of its chapel mute; though its tables no longer
send up the cheering smell of roasted boars and spitted oxen; though the
music and the voice of the minstrel are silenced, and the light foot
of the dancer no longer sounds on the floor; though no gentle knights
and gentler dames go trooping hand in hand, and whispering among the
twilight groves, and the portal no longer sends out its shining helms
and its barbed steeds,——where is the place that can recall the stately
hospitality and glory of former times, like the Hall of old Haddon?
“It happened on a summer evening, when I was a boy, that several curious
old people had seated themselves on a little round knoll near the gate
of Haddon Hall; and their talk was of the Vernons, the Cavendishes, the
Manners, and many old names once renowned in Derbyshire. I had fastened
myself to the apron-string of a venerable dame, at whose girdle hung a
mighty iron key, which commanded the entrance of the hall; her name was
Dolly Foljambe; and she boasted her descent from an ancient red cross
knight of that name, whose alabaster figure, in mail, may be found in
Bakewell church. This high origin, which, on consulting family history,
I find had not the concurrence of clergy, seemed not an idle vanity of
the humble portress; she had the straight frame, and rigid, demure, and
even warlike cast of face, which alabaster still retains of her ancestor;
and had she laid herself by his side, she might have passed muster, with
an ordinary antiquarian, for a coeval figure. At our feet the river Wye
ran winding and deep; at our side rose the hall huge and gray; and the
rough heathy hills, renowned in Druidic and Roman and Saxon and Norman
story, bounded our wish for distant prospects, and gave us the mansion of
the Vernons for our contemplation, clear of all meaner encumbrances of
landscape.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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