The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1891-02-27
In Cawdor Castle.

The fousekeeper, handsome, mid
dle-aged woman, in cashmere gown
and pretty cap, received us at the door
with such an air of smiling hospitality
that we felt at home at once: CawdoT
Castle is almost the. only one of the
really old custles-that is, those that
have not been thoroughly made over
and modefnized-that is still Used as q
family residence. We were first taken
into the dining-room, where the table,
not yet fully cleared, showed that
luncheon was just over. 1t was a
pleasant, low-ceiled room, completely
hung with old needle-work tapestry.
The only modern thing in OF about it
was the carved wooden mantelpiece;
which was put in by the. present earl
and bears his crest and those of his
four sisters; with the date of the room,
1910. ,s
From thence we went to the kitchen,
whose walls. many feet thick, were
redolent with the odOfs Of roasting
mutton and venison as far back as the
fourteenth Century, The enormous
fireplace that nearly fills one end is un-:
altered, and before it, or in it, the
family cooking is done to this day. For
the help of the cook there is some odd
machinery, still in working order and
in daily use. though as old as the CHM
nev itself, by. which the heat of the
fire turns and regulates the spit. The
upper end of the great room is ,hewn
out of solid rock, floor, walls, and cell
ing being of the same mass OF stone.
Long tables extended down the middle
throughout the whole length. and half
dozen maids, busy with pans. pots,
and scrubbing-brushes; glanced at us
curiously as we passed by. Familiarity
breeds contempt and there is small
doubt that they marveled under their
caps at the Interest or curiosity that
brought SO many questioning eyes into
their old Kitchen.
A short winding passage and fight
of steps led us into the dungeon. 1t is
not a bad place as dungeons go, hav-
ing more light, air, and space than
most Of them. Still, the sound of
the heavy iron door swinging to, with
a clang, upon its rusty hifges, must
have been anything but agreeable to
the poor captives upon whom it has so
often closed: 1t was a hard thing to
realize, With that kindly smiling face
beside us, instead Of Il warder in coat
of-mail. In the middle Of the dungeon,
like the central column of a chapter
house, rose the trunk ef q large haW-
thorn tree. 'sThere is a curious story
about this old tree, which is older than
the castle itself,'' said the elsousekeeper,
laying her hand upon it. The founder
of the house was looking for place to
build upon, when a saint, or an angel
fit doesn't matter which), appeared to
him, and told him he must build upon
whatever spot ass laden with gold
should stop three times successfully,
ghortly afterward, an ass weighed
down with treasures persisted in stop
ping three times in the shade OF this
hawthorn-tree. And so, you sec, we
have our castle, which was built
around it,"
To establish at once the principle of
believing whateTeF is told you wonder
fully enhances the interest of travel.
+ We had done this at the very outset of
our pilgrimage, and of course believed
this bit Of medieval history implicitly:
But we may perhaps be forgiven if we
ventured to wonder whether the ass
and his gold belonged to the founder
or to his dearest enemy!-JuliG c. r..
DOrr in ATLANTIC.