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Updated: May 3, 2025
It was this, that nerved me up to desperation. Why, thought I, the day after the wedding, as I paced along the Prebend's Walk over which the long-branched elms and waving oaks and thickly-growing lime-trees formed a perfect arch, in all the panoply of their new summer leaves, sheltering one from rain and sun alike why, thought I, should that fellow, Mawley, be made happy, and I not?
This was over the sluice and aqueduct from the adjacent river, which supplied the fosse that in olden times surrounded the prebend's residence, when there were such things as sieges and besiegements in this fair land of ours.
It was quite vexatious. I haunted the Prebend's Walk. I went to church three times every Sunday, but did not meet her. The only thing I had to assure me that it was not all a dream, and that I had really seen her, was the little spray of mignonette, which I carried next my heart. It was now July.
The prebend's residence was then a castle, protected, probably, by battlements and mantlets and turreted walls, and with its keep and its drawbridge, its postern and its fosse simple works of defence that were armed for retaliation, with catapult and mangonel, the canon raye of the period, besides arquebuse and other hand weapons wielded, no doubt, by mighty men at arms, mail-clad and helmeted, who knew how to give and take with the best of them; now, it was but a peaceful priest's dwelling, inhabited by as true a clergyman and gentleman as ever lived, although it was still a fine old house.
And, in the Prebend's Walk memory is more and more busy still, as I pace along its weary length solitary, alone for, even my poor old dog had died during my absence; and what were those idle, fair-weather acquaintances, whom the world calls "friends," to me in my grief! I am better without their company: it makes my mind unhealthy. So, I walk, alone with my heart and its grief!
On this very day he had driven himself into his prebend's house in the close in his four-in-hand to welcome his young American cousin. The 'Golden Canon' was of a sturdy build, fair of complexion, a lover of field sports, and an excellent judge of a horse and good claret.
I left the precincts of the church; and, walking along the path by the fosse, directed my steps towards the Prebend's Walk, hoping to light upon the object of my quest. The air was filled with the fragrance of wild flowers and the smell of the new-mown hay from the adjacent meadows.
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