This passage is excerpted from Nathaniel Hawthorne, Originally published in 1851. In this scene, set in the American Colonies when they were still governed by England, Colonel Pyncheon holds a party at his home for a visiting English dignitary.
One inauspicious circumstance there was, which awakened
a hardly concealed displeasure in the breasts of a few of the
more punctilious visitors. The founder of this stately mansion
—a gentleman noted for the square and ponderous courtesy of
his demeanor, ought surely to have stood in his own hall, and
to have offered the first welcome to so many eminent
personages as here presented themselves in honor of his
solemn festival. He was as yet invisible; the most favored of
the guests had not beheld him. This sluggishness on Colonel
Pyncheon’s part became still more unaccountable, when the
second dignitary of the province made his appearance, and
found no more ceremonious a reception. The lieutenant-
governor, although his visit was one of the anticipated glories
of the day, had alighted from his horse, and assisted his lady
from her side-saddle, and crossed the Colonel’s threshold,
without other greeting than that of the principal domestic.
This person—a gray-headed man, of quiet and most
respectful deportment—found it necessary to explain that his
master still remained in his study, or private apartment; on
entering which, an hour before, he had expressed a wish on no
account to be disturbed.
“Do not you see, fellow,” said the high-sheriff of the county,
taking the servant aside, “that this is no less a man than the
lieutenant-governor? Summon Colonel Pyncheon at once! I
know that he received letters from England this morning; and,
in the perusal and consideration of them, an hour may have
passed away without his noticing it. But he will be ill-pleased, I
judge, if you suffer him to neglect the courtesy due to one of
our chief rulers, and who may be said to represent King
William, in the absence of the governor himself. Call your
master instantly.”
“Nay, please your worship,” answered the man, in much
perplexity, but with a backwardness that strikingly indicated
the hard and severe character of Colonel Pyncheon’s domestic
rule; “my master’s orders were exceeding strict; and, as your
worship knows, he permits of no discretion in the obedience of
those who owe him service. Let who list open yonder door; I
dare not, though the governor’s own voice should bid me do
it!”
“Pooh, pooh, master high sheriff!” cried the lieutenant-
governor, who had overheard the foregoing discussion, and felt
himself high enough in station to play a little with his dignity.
“I will take the matter into my own hands. It is time that the
good Colonel came forth to greet his friends; else we shall be
apt to suspect that he has taken a sip too much of his Canary
wine, in his extreme deliberation which cask it were best to
broach in honor of the day! But since he is so much
behindhand, I will give him a remembrancer myself!”
Accordingly, with such a tramp of his ponderous riding-
boots as might of itself have been audible in the remotest of the
seven gables, he advanced to the door, which the servant
pointed out, and made its new panels reecho with a loud, free
knock. Then, looking round, with a smile, to the spectators, he
awaited a response. As none came, however, he knocked again,
but with the same unsatisfactory result as at first. And now,
being a trifle choleric in his temperament, the lieutenant-
governor uplifted the heavy hilt of his sword, wherewith he so
beat and banged upon the door, that, as some of the bystanders
whispered, the racket might have disturbed the dead. Be that as
it might, it seemed to produce no awakening effect on Colonel
Pyncheon. When the sound subsided, the silence through the
house was deep, dreary, and oppressive, notwithstanding that
the tongues of many of the guests had already been loosened
by a surreptitious cup or two of wine or spirits.
“Strange, forsooth! —very strange!” cried the lieutenant-
governor, whose smile was changed to a frown. “But seeing
that our host sets us the good example of forgetting ceremony,
I shall likewise throw it aside, and make free to intrude on his
privacy.”
He tried the door, which yielded to his hand, and was flung
wide open by a sudden gust of wind that passed, as with a loud
sigh, from the outermost portal through all the passages and
apartments of the new house. It rustled the silken garments of
the ladies, and waved the long curls of the gentlemen’s wigs,
and shook the window-hangings and the curtains of the
bedchambers; causing everywhere a singular stir, which yet
was more like a hush. A shadow of awe and half-fearful
anticipation—nobody knew wherefore, nor of what—had all at
once fallen over the company.
One inauspicious circumstance there was, which awakened
a hardly concealed displeasure in the breasts of a few of the
more punctilious visitors. The founder of this stately mansion
—a gentleman noted for the square and ponderous courtesy of
his demeanor, ought surely to have stood in his own hall, and
to have offered the first welcome to so many eminent
personages as here presented themselves in honor of his
solemn festival. He was as yet invisible; the most favored of
the guests had not beheld him. This sluggishness on Colonel
Pyncheon’s part became still more unaccountable, when the
second dignitary of the province made his appearance, and
found no more ceremonious a reception. The lieutenant-
governor, although his visit was one of the anticipated glories
of the day, had alighted from his horse, and assisted his lady
from her side-saddle, and crossed the Colonel’s threshold,
without other greeting than that of the principal domestic.
This person—a gray-headed man, of quiet and most
respectful deportment—found it necessary to explain that his
master still remained in his study, or private apartment; on
entering which, an hour before, he had expressed a wish on no
account to be disturbed.
“Do not you see, fellow,” said the high-sheriff of the county,
taking the servant aside, “that this is no less a man than the
lieutenant-governor? Summon Colonel Pyncheon at once! I
know that he received letters from England this morning; and,
in the perusal and consideration of them, an hour may have
passed away without his noticing it. But he will be ill-pleased, I
judge, if you suffer him to neglect the courtesy due to one of
our chief rulers, and who may be said to represent King
William, in the absence of the governor himself. Call your
master instantly.”
“Nay, please your worship,” answered the man, in much
perplexity, but with a backwardness that strikingly indicated
the hard and severe character of Colonel Pyncheon’s domestic
rule; “my master’s orders were exceeding strict; and, as your
worship knows, he permits of no discretion in the obedience of
those who owe him service. Let who list open yonder door; I
dare not, though the governor’s own voice should bid me do
it!”
“Pooh, pooh, master high sheriff!” cried the lieutenant-
governor, who had overheard the foregoing discussion, and felt
himself high enough in station to play a little with his dignity.
“I will take the matter into my own hands. It is time that the
good Colonel came forth to greet his friends; else we shall be
apt to suspect that he has taken a sip too much of his Canary
wine, in his extreme deliberation which cask it were best to
broach in honor of the day! But since he is so much
behindhand, I will give him a remembrancer myself!”
Accordingly, with such a tramp of his ponderous riding-
boots as might of itself have been audible in the remotest of the
seven gables, he advanced to the door, which the servant
pointed out, and made its new panels reecho with a loud, free
knock. Then, looking round, with a smile, to the spectators, he
awaited a response. As none came, however, he knocked again,
but with the same unsatisfactory result as at first. And now,
being a trifle choleric in his temperament, the lieutenant-
governor uplifted the heavy hilt of his sword, wherewith he so
beat and banged upon the door, that, as some of the bystanders
whispered, the racket might have disturbed the dead. Be that as
it might, it seemed to produce no awakening effect on Colonel
Pyncheon. When the sound subsided, the silence through the
house was deep, dreary, and oppressive, notwithstanding that
the tongues of many of the guests had already been loosened
by a surreptitious cup or two of wine or spirits.
“Strange, forsooth! —very strange!” cried the lieutenant-
governor, whose smile was changed to a frown. “But seeing
that our host sets us the good example of forgetting ceremony,
I shall likewise throw it aside, and make free to intrude on his
privacy.”
He tried the door, which yielded to his hand, and was flung
wide open by a sudden gust of wind that passed, as with a loud
sigh, from the outermost portal through all the passages and
apartments of the new house. It rustled the silken garments of
the ladies, and waved the long curls of the gentlemen’s wigs,
and shook the window-hangings and the curtains of the
bedchambers; causing everywhere a singular stir, which yet
was more like a hush. A shadow of awe and half-fearful
anticipation—nobody knew wherefore, nor of what—had all at
once fallen over the company.