The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863Morford, Henry
History
The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863
Morford, Henry
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
A wide piazza, with the columns made of such light tracery in scrolled
plank-work that they seemed to be almost unreal and gave an appearance of
etheriality to the whole front of the house. The piazza, flecked over with
the golden June sunshine that stole down between the branches of the tall
trees standing in front and shading the house, and that crept in through
the network of twine and climbing roses clambering almost up to the roof
from the balustrade below. The house to which the piazza adjoined, large,
built of wood in that half Flemish and half Elizabethan style which has of
late years been made popular through cheap books on cottage architecture
and the illustrations in agricultural newspapers,--two and a half stories
in height, with a double gabled front that belonged to the one, elaborate
cornices and work over the piazza that belonged to the other, and a turret
in the centre that belonged to neither. A wide, tall door opening from the
piazza, and windows also opening upon it, sweeping down quite to the
floor. Altogether a house which approached more nearly to the "composite"
order of architecture so much affected by wealthy Americans, than to any
one set down in the books by a particular designation; and yet shapely and
imposing, and showing that if the most unimpeachable taste had not presided
over the erection, yet wealth had been lavishly expended and all the modern
graces and ornaments freely supplied.
In front of the house, and sweeping down to the road that ran within a
hundred feet, a grassed lawn lying in the lovely green of early summer,
only broken at irregular intervals by the dozen of trees of larger and
smaller sizes, round which the earth had been artistically made to swell so
as to do away with any appearance of newness and create the impression that
the roundness had been caused by the bursting of the trees farther out of
the ground through many years of vigorous growth. Beneath one of the
largest of the trees--a maple, with the silver sheen almost equally divided
between its bark and its glossy leaves, a long wooden bench or settee, with
two or three sofa-cushions thrown carelessly upon it, as if it formed at
times a favorite lounge for a reader or a smoker. On the piazza a triad of
chairs, irregularly placed and all unoccupied. One of the two folding doors
leading into the halls from the piazza, wide open, as became the season,
and the other half closed as if a single puff of summer breeze coming
through the hall had become exhausted before closing it entirely. One of
the windows opening from the piazza into what seemed to be the better part
of the house, closed entirely; and the other, with the shutters "bowed" or
half open, permitting a peep into a large parlor or sitting-room, with rich
carpet and handsome furniture, but kept dusky under the impression (more or
less reasonable) that thereby additional coolness would be secured.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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