Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1897-02-23
FROM PARIS, MAINE, TO PARIS,
FRANCE.
No. Il.
KESILwoRTH AND sTRATroRD-oN-
AVON.

| WENTWORTH AND sTRATFORD-0N-
| AVON.
(rIom our Special Foreign Correspondent
| LONDON, ENGLAND.
We scarcely leave the little hsmle,
before coming TO parts Of the old walls
which originally surrounded the estate
Of kenilworth. There Is no ruin In ali
England more interesting than this
grand old baronial castle. II was found
ed In 100. and came to be the property
OF the crown before the time OF Eliza
beth, who gave Il TO her fsvorite. the
Earl Of Leicester. Scott's novel tells
you Of the lavish way In which Leicester
entertained her there in 1875. Ten thou
sand soldiers we're required to guard the
outer walls, and the historic memories
OF the place appeal to US nore power
fully than those OF any other castle In
England.
On each side the road We see pict-
uresque ruins Of parts OF the buildings
that belonged to the renowned estate,
the ancient priory among them; and
when the magnificent old ruin itself Is
revealed to view behind the trees, and
we first behold that nest OF royal
romance and home OF tragedy, our emo
tions cannot be put on paper. Our
coachmsn, OF whom We hoped 10 gain
some information regarding the place,
thinking he might know more about II
than we did, having lived within the
shadow of It's frowning walls all his life,
informed us, when We bargained with
him To return for us In an hour, that We
"wouldn't want ter stay there an hour
there's nothin' In there ter see." But
we found that the hour was sll too
short, aud made him walt an extra half
hour for us.
The first object on entering the gate
where you deposit your sixpence, Is the
Great Gate House, the only part OF this
vast ancient structure that Is kept In
repair-for the use OF the csre-taker. IL
IL massive and very interesting, but not
so much so as the ruins that rise up here
and there, all about you, as you traverse
what were once the beautiful gar
dens, beautiful still, though unadorned
by the flowers which care aud cultivs-
tion make TO bloom for US; not even
frightened with the wild-hower, or the
spripging blade OF grass, for 1t Is typ
icsl gray November day, far more In
keeping with the sombre mood Of the
place, than would be the sunshine
and the springing flower. We have been
told that spring-time, when all the earth
Is blossoming and full Of life and bright
ness, IL the best time TO visit England,
but not so these places which tell Us of
its decsying glory, Of its tragic, long
gone visions of splendor, Of its romances,
its heart-reuding scenes OF life. love and
sorrow, for they are seen at their best
when the sun hides his face, and all the
earth is In sympathy with the gloom
that surrounds.
So We look not for the uodding flower
and waving grass and budding tree, but
feed our eyes aud nourish our souls with
the symmetry Of the gnsrled aud crooked
hawthorn tree, bereft OF leaves, with its
glowing dark red berries. and forbidding
thorns, and the abundant holly-trees,
whose profusion OF variegated shining
yellow and green leaves we have seen no
where else. Some Of them have a yellow
border entirely around the edge OF the
leaf. These leaves stay on the trees all
winter with their bright scarlet berries.
The same Is the case with the Ivy, which
so closely clings 10 the walls which Ii
has protected for centuries; and here the
Ivy truly speaks Of strength, pirtaking
not Of the attribute OF the clinging vine,
for IL throws its strong, protecting arms
about the weak and tortering object Of
its affection, sustaining and sheltering II
from the blasts that chill, and even Time
cannot destroy, so tender is is watch
fulness aud care.
shines on these crumbling walls and
towers of red san istone, making them
glow like shafts Of red tourmsline, ex-
cept where the clinging Ivy has grown
over them, making them far more beau
tiful than they could ever have been
when perfect and entire. The deer that
formerly stalked about have turned into
plain common everyday sheep, and black
ones at thst. though originally white,
for everything that Is white, Is black, 10
England, because of the smoky atmos-
phere. They find shelter in dungeon,
niche and Granny OF the old ruin.
Inside these mouldering walls We
seem to sac the proud Leicester treading
the armorial halls. We see Eliz ,beth re-
ceiving his homage, and that OF her
many other admirers, and the glory OF
the knights and ladies 10 gorgeous ar
rag going through the graceful figure Of
the stately minuet. Aud in the ruin of
the old banquet hall We hear the voices,
the shouts, the songs Of merriment, and
the cliuk of glasses that speaks the glow
ing presence of swine, woman and
song" and the heart beats fast as all
this panorama Of imagination, fascina-
tion, and glowing, thrilling, pulsing life,
passes before you, and you almost audi
bly, say, ''On with the dance, on! on!"
But when your feet traverse this dark,
narrow, winding staircase, whose every
stair has been worn through in the CEN
ire to the very bottom by the FOOTBALLS OF
centuries-when you climb this stairway
that leads to the tower, where, up above
all the revelry and mirth going on below,
sits poor Amy Robsart, her solitary and
lone watch keeping for the loved one
who never came, ah, how your SYM
pathies 60 out, as you picture her imsge,
her sad face, her worn features, beautiful
still with untold suffering, and the heart
OF true, pure, trusting womanhOOd, that
never failed, never faltered, in its ale
glance to the weak and erring husband,
though his neglect had scorched and
scared her very soul, yet wOman-like she
loved aud trusted on.
Walter Scott has not made the erring
Leicester so black character as history
has painted him, for even though his
ambitions and pride, aud greed Of gain
and glory, drove him TO wickedness and
deceit, vet when worst came TO worst the
spark that WAS divine overcame ambi-
ton, and he would not give up his poor
Amy, even for his queen, and he con-
fesses all at the risk of banishment, or
| Imprisonment and i2nominious desth,
and expresses his willingness to leave
all--csstles, riches, friends, home, fame,
splendor, royalty and all, for he bad
found out that all these could not be
compared to the love Of one true heart,
and It was only in the moment Of jesl-
ous, insane rage, when his colleagues
had succeeded In making him believe her
untrue, that he reluctantly consented to
let them do her harm; anu even then he
soon relented and did all In human
power to recall them, bnt Il WAS too
| Iato-the deadly work had been done