Woodburn Grange: A story of English country life; vol. 1 of 3Howitt, William
General
Woodburn Grange: A story of English country life; vol. 1 of 3
Howitt, William
Religious fiction
But so far from being intimidated from proceeding, this
demonstration only made Sir Roger the more determined. To have so
desperate and irreverent a population coming about his house and
woods, now presented itself in a much more formidable aspect than
ever. So, next day, not only were the placards once more hoisted, but
rewards offered for the discovery of the offenders, attended with all
the maledictions of the insulted majesty of the law. No notice was
taken of this; but the whole of Great Castleborough was in a buzz and
an agitation. There were posters plastered all over the walls of the
town, four times as large as Sir Roger’s notices, in this style:—
“Englishmen! Your dearest rights are menaced! The woods of Rockville,
your ancient, rightful, and enchanting resort, are to be closed to
you. Castleburghians, the eyes of the world are upon you. ‘Awake!
arise! or be for ever fallen!’ England expects every man to do his
duty! And your duty is to resist and defy the grasping soil-lords,
to seize on your ancient patrimony!”
“Patrimony! Ancient and rightful resort of Rockville!” Sir Roger
was astounded at the audacity of this upstart plebeian race.
What! they actually claimed Rockville, the heritage of a hundred
successive Rockvilles, as their own. Sir Roger determined to carry
it to the Sessions; and at the Sessions was a magnificent muster
of all his friends. There was Sir Roger himself in the chair; and
on either hand a prodigious row of country squirearchy. There was
Sir Benjamin Bullockshed, and Sir Thomas Tenterhook, and all the
squires—Sheepshank, Ramsbottom, Turnbull, Otterbrook, and Swagsides.
The clerk of the Sessions read the notice for the closing of all
the foot-paths through the woods of Rockville, and declared that
this notice had been duly, and for the required period, publicly
posted. The Castleburghians protested by their able lawyer, Dare
Deville, against any order for the closing of these ancient woods—the
inestimable property of the public.
“Property of the public!” exclaimed Sir Roger. “Property of the
public!” echoed the multitudinous voices of indignant Bullocksheds,
Tenterhooks, and Ramsbottoms. “Why, sir, do you dispute the right of
Sir Roger Rockville to his own estate?”
“By no means,” replied the undaunted Dare Deville; “the estate of
Rockville is unquestionably the property of the honourable baronet,
Sir Roger Rockville; but the roads through it are as unquestionably
the property of the public.”
The whole bench looked at itself; that is, at each other, in
wrathful astonishment. The swelling in the diaphragms of the squires
of Otterbrook, Turnbull, and Swagsides, and all the rest of the
worshipful row, was too big for utterance. Only Sir Roger himself
burst forth with an abrupt—“Impudent fellow! But I’ll see him ——
first!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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