Hawking

The soaring hawk, from fist that flies,
Her falconer doth constrain
Sometimes to range the ground about
To find her out again;
And if by sight, or sound of bell,
His falcon he may see,
Wo ho! he cries, with cheerful voice--
The gladdest man is he.

HANDEFULL OF PLEASANT DELITES.

At an early hour this morning the Hall was in a bustle, preparing for
the sport of the day. I heard Master Simon whistling and singing under
my window at sunrise, as he was preparing the jesses for the hawk's
legs, and could distinguish now and then a stanza of one of his
favourite old ditties:

"In peascod time, when hound to horn
Gives note that buck be kill'd;
And little boy with pipe of corn
Is tending sheep a-field," etc.

A hearty breakfast, well flanked by cold meats, was served up in the
great hall. The whole garrison of retainers and hangers-on were in
motion, reinforced by volunteer idlers from the village. The horses were
led up and down before the door; everybody had something to say and
something to do, and hurried hither and thither; there was a direful
yelping of dogs; some that were to accompany us being eager to set off,
and others that were to stay at home being whipped back to their
kennels. In short, for once, the good squire's mansion might have been
taken as a good specimen of one of the rantipole establishments of the
good old feudal times.

Breakfast being finished, the chivalry of the Hall prepared to take the
field. The fair Julia was of the party, in a hunting-dress, with a light
plume of feathers in her riding-hat. As she mounted her favourite
Galloway, I remarked, with pleasure, that old Christy forgot his usual
crustiness, and hastened to adjust her saddle and bridle. He touched his
cap as she smiled on him and thanked him; and then, looking round at the
other attendants, gave a knowing nod of his head, in which I read pride
and exultation at the charming appearance of his pupil.

Lady Lillycraft had likewise determined to witness the sport. She was
dressed in her broad white beaver, tied under the chin, and a
riding-habit of the last century. She rode her sleek, ambling pony,
whose motion was as easy as a rocking-chair; and was gallantly escorted
by the general, who looked not unlike one of the doughty heroes in the
old prints of the battle of Blenheim. The parson, likewise, accompanied
her on the other side; for this was a learned amusement in which he took
great interest; and, indeed, had given much counsel, from his knowledge
of old customs.

At length everything was arranged, and off we set from the Hall. The
exercise on horseback puts one in fine spirits; and the scene was gay
and animating. The young men of the family accompanied Miss Templeton.
She sat lightly and gracefully in her saddle, her plumes dancing and
waving in the air; and the group had a charming effect as they appeared
and disappeared among the trees, cantering along with the bounding
animation of youth. The squire and Master Simon rode together,
accompanied by old Christy mounted on Pepper. The latter bore the hawk
on his fist, as he insisted the bird was most accustomed to him. There
was a rabble rout on foot, composed of retainers from the Hall, and some
idlers from the village, with two or three spaniels for the purpose of
starting the game.

A kind of corps de reserve came on quietly in the rear, composed of Lady
Lillycraft, General Harbottle, the parson, and a fat footman. Her
ladyship ambled gently along on her pony, while the general, mounted on
a tall hunter, looked down upon her with an air of the most protecting
gallantry.

For my part, being no sportsman, I kept with this last party, or rather
lagged behind, that I might take in the whole picture; and the parson
occasionally slackened his pace and jogged on in company with me.

The sport led us at some distance from the Hall, in a soft meadow
reeking with the moist verdure of spring. A little river ran through it,
bordered by willows, which had put forth their tender early foliage. The
sportsmen were in quest of herons, which were said to keep about this
stream.

There was some disputing already among the leaders of the sport. The
squire, Master Simon, and old Christy, came every now and then to a
pause, to consult together, like the field officers in an army; and I
saw, by certain motions of the head, that Christy was as positive as any
old, wrong-headed German commander.

As we were prancing up this quiet meadow every sound we made was
answered by a distinct echo from the sunny wall of an old building that
lay on the opposite margin of the stream; and I paused to listen to the
"spirit of a sound," which seems to love such quiet and beautiful
places. The parson informed me that this was the ruin of an ancient
grange, and was supposed by the country people to be haunted by a
dobbie, a kind of rural sprite, something like Robin-Goodfellow. They
often fancied the echo to be the voice of the dobbie answering them, and
were rather shy of disturbing it after dark. He added, that the squire
was very careful of this ruin, on account of the superstition connected
with it. As I considered this local habitation of an "airy nothing," I
called to mind the fine description of an echo in Webster's Duchess of
Malfy:

--"'Yond side o' th' river lies a wall,
Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion
Gives the best echo that you have ever heard:
So plain in the distinction of our words
That many have supposed it a spirit
That answers."

The parson went on to comment on a pleasing and fanciful appellation
which the Jews of old gave to the echo, which they called Bath-kool,
that is to say, "the daughter of the voice;" they considered it an
oracle, supplying in the second temple the want of the Urim and Thummim,
with which the first was honoured.[A] The little man was just entering
very largely and learnedly upon the subject, when we were startled by a
prodigious bawling, shouting, and yelping. A flight of crows, alarmed by
the approach of our forces, had suddenly risen from a meadow; a cry was
put up by the rabble rout on foot--"Now, Christy! now is your time,
Christy!" The squire and Master Simon, who were beating up the river
banks in quest of a heron, called out eagerly to Christy to keep quiet;
the old man, vexed and bewildered by the confusion of voices, completely
lost his head: in his flurry he slipped off the hood, cast off the
falcon, and away flew the crows, and away soared the hawk.

[Footnote A: Bekker's _Monde Enchanté_.]

I had paused on a rising ground, close to Lady Lillycraft and her
escort, from whence I had a good view of the sport. I was pleased with
the appearance of the party in the meadow, riding along in the direction
that the bird flew; their bright beaming faces turned up to the bright
skies as they watched the game; the attendants on foot scampering along,
looking up, and calling out, and the dogs bounding and yelping with
clamorous sympathy.

The hawk had singled out a quarry from among the carrion crew. It was
curious to see the efforts of the two birds to get above each other; one
to make the fatal swoop, the other to avoid it. Now they crossed athwart
a bright feathery cloud, and now they were against the clear blue sky.
I confess, being no sportsman, I was more interested for the poor bird
that was striving for its life, than for the hawk that was playing the
part of a mercenary soldier. At length the hawk got the upper hand, and
made a rushing stoop at her quarry, but the latter made as sudden a
surge downwards, and slanting up again evaded the blow, screaming and
making the best of his way for a dry tree on the brow of a neighbouring
hill; while the hawk, disappointed of her blow, soared up again into the
air, and appeared to be "raking" off. It was in vain old Christy called
and whistled, and endeavoured to lure her down; she paid no regard to
him; and, indeed, his calls were drowned in the shouts and yelps of the
army of militia that had followed him into the field.

Just then an exclamation from Lady Lillycraft made me turn my head. I
beheld a complete confusion among the sportsmen in the little vale below
us. They were galloping and running towards the edge of a bank; and I
was shocked to see Miss Templeton's horse galloping at large without his
rider. I rode to the place to which bank, which almost overhung the
stream, I saw at the foot of it the fair Julia, pale, bleeding, and
apparently lifeless, supported in the arms of her frantic lover.

In galloping heedlessly along, with her eyes turned upward, she had
unwarily approached too near the bank; it had given way with her, and
she and her horse had been precipitated to the pebbled margin of the
river.

I never saw greater consternation. The captain was distracted; Lady
Lillycraft fainting; the squire in dismay; and Master Simon at his wits'
end. The beautiful creature at length showed signs of returning life;
she opened her eyes; looked around her upon the anxious group, and
comprehending in a moment the nature of the scene, gave a sweet smile,
and putting her hand in her lover's, exclaimed feebly, "I am not much
hurt, Guy!" I could have taken her to my heart for that single
exclamation.

It was found, indeed, that she had escaped, almost miraculously, with a
contusion of the head, a sprained ankle, and some slight bruises. After
her wound was stanched, she was taken to a neighbouring cottage until a
carriage could be summoned to convey her home; and when this had
arrived, the cavalcade, which had issued forth so gaily on this
enterprise, returned slowly and pensively to the Hall.

I had been charmed by the generous spirit shown by this young creature,
who, amidst pain and danger, had been anxious only to relieve the
distress of those around her. I was gratified, therefore, by the
universal concern displayed by the domestics on our return. They came
crowding down the avenue, each eager to render assistance. The butler
stood ready with some curiously delicate cordial; the old housekeeper
was provided with half a dozen nostrums, prepared by her own hands,
according to the family receipt book; while her niece, the melting
Phoebe, having no other way of assisting, stood wringing her hands and
weeping aloud.

The most material effect that is likely to follow this accident is a
postponement of the nuptials, which were close at hand. Though I
commiserate the impatience of the captain on that account, yet I shall
not otherwise be sorry at the delay, as it will give me a better
opportunity of studying the characters here assembled, with which I grow
more and more entertained.

I cannot but perceive that the worthy squire is quite disconcerted at
the unlucky result of his hawking experiment, and this unfortunate
illustration of his eulogy on female equitation. Old Christy, too, is
very waspish, having been sorely twitted by Master Simon for having let
his hawk fly at carrion. As to the falcon, in the confusion occasioned
by the fair Julia's disaster the bird was totally forgotten. I make no
doubt she has made the best of her way back to the hospitable Hall of
Sir Watkyn Williams Wynn; and may very possibly, at this present
writing, be pluming her wings among the breezy bowers of Wynnstay.