CHAPTER X

THE GOVERNOR OF HENFERESTER

Ten leagues north of Vienna is the vast manor of Henferester--an old pile blackened by time, its walls covered with ivy, its roof with moss; it seemed deserted and abandoned. The main structure, and a great tower which faced the east, were almost in ruins. The only habitable part of the chateau was the western tower; through some hedges of box, pushing in every direction over the esplanade, which, surrounded by lime-trees, extended before the door of the castle, could be seen traces of an ancient parterre overgrown with brambles and parasitic plants.

Autumn was drawing towards its close; the foliage of the great clumps of trees which fringed the horizon had begun to put on their rich purple tints. The sky was gray and rainy; the air damp and cold; night approached. The high and narrow window which gave light to the basement of the tower was suddenly illuminated; the stained glass windows, although somewhat blackened by smoke, shone brilliantly, and the coat-of-arms of the lords of Henferester glittered in the darkness steadily deepening.

The lower floor of the tower formed one immense circular room; it was at once the dining-hall and the kitchen of the Governor of Henferester; the upper stories contained many dilapidated chambers, which were reached by a rough and narrow spiral stone staircase, the ascent of which was aided by a rope attached to the damp wall by rings of rusty iron.

A great fire was burning in the immense kitchen chimney; a copper lamp with three branches suspended from the smoky rafters of the ceiling, lighted the place; on the walls, whose plaster was in patches, were hung deer-horns, which supported guns and hunting-knives, wild boars' tusks and hoofs, and several wolves' heads, stuffed.

The floor, trodden hard like the threshing-floor of a barn, was strewn with hatchelled straw, by way of a carpet. In one corner an enormous hogshead of beer, between two beams, was on tap. Above it were two barrels of different sizes. One contained Rhine wine, the other, which was smaller, the kirchenwasser of the Black Forest. On either side of the barrels were ranged pewter mugs of various sizes. Near by were two great firkins set against the wall, one full of salted bacon, the other of sauer-kraut pickled in vinegar. An iron fork and spoon hanging over these two firkins, formed, so to speak, pendants to the pewter mugs ranged above the barrels.

Lastly, a kneading-trough, containing a dozen loaves of bread as big as mill-wheels, completed the list of culinary furniture.

Except a quarter of venison, which was roasting before an enormous fire in the chimney, and a great pot in which the bacon and sauer-kraut were boiling, there was nothing in the room to indicate that it was a kitchen. There were visible neither cooking-stoves, nor moulds, nor saucepans of various forms, so dear to _gourmands._

As for utensils, there was only one gridiron hanging before the mouth of the oven, which was wide open, under the mantle-piece, and a great turnspit operated by a dog.

A quarter of venison, like that before the fire, was hanging, all bloody, on an iron hook near the door.

Thanks to the combined odors of the venison, the bacon, the sauer-kraut, the beer, the wine, and the kirchenwasser, the atmosphere of the room was so thick, or perhaps we may say, so nourishing, that a very little of it would have satisfied a delicate stomach.

Without, the rain, mingled with hail, fell violently, pelting the windows.

Two white-haired old Germans, clothed in loose gray coats, fastened at the waist by belts of buffalo hide, were preparing the repast of the lord of Henferester, who had been out hunting since the morning, and had not yet returned.

These preparations were simple. The domestics drew towards the fireplace a long and massive oak table; at the upper end they placed the master's oaken seat, coarsely sculptured with his coat-of-arms, the back carried up to form a canopy, and to which no cushion gave ease.

Before this seat they placed a plate, or rather a great dish of silver, a piece of bread weighing about two pounds, and three tankards, also of silver, which served at once as glasses and bottles. The first, destined for beer, held two pints; the second, for wine, one pint, the third, for kirchenwasser, half a pint.

These tankards were generally filled a second time during the meal. Table-cloths, napkins, and covers were things merely remembered, and were deemed ridiculous superfluities. Hunters of that day always carried two knives in their belts; one straight and long, for stabbing the beast; the other, thick, curved, and a little larger than an ordinary table-knife, was used for cutting him up. This last they invariably employed for carving their meat at table.

The servants then laid pewter plates and pieces of bread at each side of the table. These inferior places were reserved for the servitors of the baron, according to their rank.

The lord of Henferester, faithful to old and patriarchal traditions, ate with his domestics. On his right was the place of Erhard Trusches, his huntsman; on the left that of Selbitz, his major-domo.

This last-named personage, having set the sauer-kraut to boil, and the venison to roast, aided Link, an old groom, in preparing the table.

As to women, they were never seen in the castle. Every Saturday, old Wilhelmina, the minister's housekeeper, came to make and bake the bread for the week, while the baron was at the council at Vienna. Wednesday, the other council day, she put in order the linen of the castle, always in the absence of the governor, who regarded the fair sex with profound dislike.

"The master is late to-night," said the major-domo, sadly looking at the quarter of venison, which was beginning to dry up.

"The night is dark, the rain is falling heavily, Master Selbitz . . . perhaps the chase will have carried the governor into the forest of Harterassen. . . . Master Erhard Trusches sent word this morning by Karl, the dog-keeper, that the baron was to hunt a wild boar; . . . and wild boars always start in the woods of Ferstenfak, gain the plain of Marais, return to their lair in the forest of Harterassen, and then are captured at the pond of the priory. All that would make a run of at least eight leagues, and as many to return, Master Selbitz." . . .

"And what with the night and the rain, and the bad roads of the forest, that is a long way. . . . But listen, Link," . . . said the major-domo, putting his hand to his ear; "is not that the sound of the governor's trumpet?"

"No, Master Selbitz, it is the wind blowing the weathercock." . . .

"What time is it?" asked the major-domo; for clocks were almost as unknown in the castle as at Otaheite.

"It must be between six and seven, Master Selbitz, for Elphin, the governor's roan horse, has been calling for his grain for some time. . . . Hark! listen! do you hear him? Patience, patience, old Elphin!" said the groom, coming back from the door. . . . "When your companions, Kol and Lipper, get back, you will have your supper, but not before, you old glutton!"

"This time it surely is the governor's trumpet," cried the major-domo. . . . "God be praised! What weather! Come! run and hold the master's stirrup. Link, while I go and throw some pine cones on the fire, to make a blaze."

"That is certainly the governor's trumpet," said Link, after listening attentively, . . . "but he does not sound a joyful flourish, or the retreat. . . . Ah, Master Selbitz, bad luck, bad luck!"

"The better reason for not keeping him waiting,--go--hurry!"

The groom ran out. . . . Selbitz, having brightened the fire, put on his lord's silver plate a letter with a great red seal, which an express had brought from Vienna during the day.

At this moment they heard the loud snapping of a whip, and a stentorian and harsh voice, crying: "Go to the black devil! you cursed dogs! Erhard, see if the piebald horse eats well; for the day has been a hard one!"

Then they heard the clatter of great iron-heeled and spurred boots; the door opened, and the lord of Henferester entered in the midst of a dozen dogs, covered with mud and streaming with rain, who rushed into the kitchen, and crowded before the fire to dry themselves.

The baron allowed them this privilege as much for love of the canine race, as for his own interest, knowing that dogs who go into their kennels shivering and cold, often fall sick.

The lord of Henferester, a man of enormous size, and from forty-five to fifty years old, seemed to possess herculean strength. On entering, he threw his old felt hat into the kneading-trough. His bright red hair was cut short; his russet beard, which he shaved only on council days, was so thick that it covered nearly all his face. His features, strongly marked, and tanned by exposure to the open air, were hard, yet not devoid of a certain nobility.

His old green jacket was soaked with rain, and buttoned up to his chin. His deer-skin breeches were black with age, and his great thick boots, covered with mud, reached more than half-way up his thighs; a leather belt held his hunting-knives, with horn handles. He carried across his breast a great trumpet of tarnished copper, and held in his large, hairy hand, a whip and a carbine.

Having given this weapon and the trumpet to his major-domo, who hung them upon the wall, the master approached the fire with a discontented air, distributed several rude kicks among his dogs, to make them move out of his way, and threw himself heavily in his chair, saying to his hounds, sharply:

"Get out, you lazy, clumsy wretches! you are much more worthy to turn the spit than to follow the chase of a noble animal. . . . To give out after a five-hours' run, and all because the haunt of the wild boar is too brambly! You have, it seems, become very delicate! Hum! and even you, old Ralph!" he added, with a furious look, aiming a kick at the dog thus addressed.

The major-domo, seeing the humor of his master, tried to calm him by recalling his more successful sport.

"I can understand that my lord may be displeased when he has had bad luck, for he is not used to it; but--"

"Well, well," said the baron, in a harsh tone, "take the venison from the spit, and give me my supper, for I am as hungry as the devil. This boar led us through the forest of Harterassen; then the dogs gave out before a hedge so thick that one should have the hide of a wild boar itself to penetrate it." . . .

"My lord sees, then, that it is not altogether the fault of his brave dogs. But my lord is wet through; if he would but change his clothes." . . .

"Change my clothes! and why would you have me change, Master Selbitz the tender-skinned?" cried the governor, wrathfully; "do you take me for a silly woman, for a Frenchman? Do I change my clothes when I return from the chase? Do my dogs change? do my horses change?"

"No, of course not, my lord, but your clothes smoke on your body, like Dame Wilhelmina's tub when she is making the washing lye." . . .

"That shows that they are drying, and the dampness is leaving them!"

"But, my lord". . .

"But, hold your tongue, Master Selbitz the blockhead, Master Selbitz the babbler, and give me a mug of kirchenwasser."

Then, seeing the letter which was on his plate, the baron asked:

"What is that, Selbitz?"

"A letter which Count Stasfield's carrier has brought."

"Oh! let business go to the devil! Tis enough to go to Vienna twice a week," said the governor, breaking the seal of the letter.

It read thus:

"I wish to inform you, my dear baron, that the French Marquis M. de Létorière will arrive to-day at your house to converse with you on the subject of his lawsuit; I need not remind you of the formal promise you have made me to add your vote to those of your colleagues, in favor of the Duke of Brandenbourg. Believe me, my dear baron, etc."

"And what the devil is this Frenchman coming here for?" cried the governor, in a passion. "By the Holy Kings of Cologne, am I never to have one moment of repose? Here is this beau of Versailles coming to rouse me like a wild boar from his lair. . . . In my opinion his lawsuit is lost . . . totally lost. . . . What does he want more? Does he believe that I am going to interest myself about him? An impudent little fellow, who embroiders in tambour, and who uses, they say, rouge and patches! One of these men of gallantry, as corrupt as effeminate, always hanging on the skirts of the women! But, by the infernal, I can't escape from this Marquis! If he comes, I shall be obliged to offer him hospitality; it is fifteen leagues from here to Vienna, and I can't send him back without seeing him! I wish the devil had all the lawyers and lawsuits! and he's coming to-night! We must offer him a bed; but where shall he sleep? Everything is dilapidated here, and this beauty will come in a litter, like a woman in labor!"

The baron stamped his foot in anger, and calling his major-domo, said with an air of vexation:

"Perhaps we shall have a Frenchman here to-night--a Marquis--a pleader;--in such weather we cannot let him go back to Vienna. Where can we put him, him and his suite? For this dandy undoubtedly travels with his train of hair-dressers, bathers and perfumers!"

"Faith, my lord," said the major-domo, scratching his ear, "there is only the rat-chamber, where the rain does not come in."

"Well then, put him in the rat-chamber." Then the baron added, with a sort of bitter irony: "In order to convey a brilliant impression of the hospitality bestowed at the castle of Henferester, and especially that this delicate visitor may have all his comforts, don't forget, major-domo, to cover his bed with the most beautiful silk curtains, to furnish it with eider-down, and the finest linens of Friesland; to beat well the Turkey carpet; to put perfumed candles into the silver-gilt candlesticks, and to warm his bed with charcoal of aloes wood. Do you understand, major-domo?"

"Yes, yes, my lord," said Martin Selbitz, busily occupying himself with dishing up the quarter of venison, the bacon and the sauer-kraut, and rejoiced at the peasantry of his master; "yes, my lord, be easy; I understand you; the straw of his bed shall be fresh, and well stirred up; the woollen coverlid well beaten, the floor well swept, the curtains and tapestry of cobwebs well shaken, and the shutters set wide open, that the moon may throw a bright light into the chamber of your guest; in short, if he is so delicate and sensitive to cold, his bed shall be warmed,--by the dog of the turnspit."

The baron could not help laughing at the factiousness of his major-domo, who had so exactly described the rat-chamber, which was very like his own apartment, so indifferent was he to the commonest conveniences of life.

"To supper!" said the governor, drawing up his chair and taking his hunting-knife from his belt.

At this moment was heard the sound of the trumpet, habitually used by German postilions.

"Perhaps it is that confounded Marquis," cried the baron. "Hullo, Erhard, Selbitz, run to receive him!"

The governor, rising heavily from his seat, went to the door, saying in a growling tone: "He must have a devilish strong body to travel such weather as this. . . . Bah, shut up in his post-chaise, he is much better off than he will be in the castle. Let us see, then, this beautiful darling, this beau, this most effeminate of all the effeminates in the Court of France."

And the governor went forward to fulfil, in spite of himself, the duties of hospitality towards his guest.