| 1 | Author: | Cooper
James Fenimore
1789-1851 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Heidenmauer, Or, the Benedictines | | | Published: | 1997 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | Description: | The reader must imagine a narrow and secluded
valley, for the opening scene of this tale. The time
was that in which the day loses its power, casting
a light on objects most exposed, that resembles
colors seen through glass slightly stained; a peculiarity
of the atmosphere, which, though almost of
daily occurrence in summer and autumn, is the
source of constant enjoyment to the real lover of
nature. The hue meant is not a sickly yellow, but
rather a soft and melancholy glory, that lends to
the hill-side and copse, to tree and tower, to stream
and lawn, those tinges of surpassing loveliness that
impart to the close of day its proverbial and
soothing charm. The setting sun touched with
oblique rays a bit of shaven meadow, that lay in a
dell so deep as to owe this parting smile of nature
to an accidental formation of the neighboring eminences,
a distant mountain crest, that a flock had
cropped and fertilized, a rippling current that glided
in the bottom, a narrow beaten path, more worn by
hoof than wheel, and a vast range of forest, that
swelled and receded from the view, covering leagues
of a hill-chase, that even tradition had never peopled.
The spot was seemingly as retired as if it had been
chosen in one of our own solitudes of the wilderness;
while it was, in fact, near the centre of Europe, and
in the sixteenth century. But, notwithstanding the
absence of dwellings, and all the other signs of the
immediate presence of man, together with the
wooded character of the scene, an American eye
would not have been slow to detect its distinguishing
features, from those which mark the wilds of
this country. The trees, though preserved with
care, and flourishing, wanted the moss of ages, the
high and rocking summit, the variety and natural
wildness of the western forest. No mouldering
trunk lay where it had fallen, no branch had been
twisted by the gale and forgotten, nor did any upturned
root betray the indifference of man to the
decay of this important part of vegetation. Here
and there, a species of broom, such as is seen occasionally
on the mast-heads of ships, was erected
above some tall member of the woods that stood on
an elevated point; land-marks which divided the
rights of those who were entitled to cut and clip;
the certain evidence that man had long before extended
his sway over these sombre hills, and that,
retired as they seemed, they were actually subject
to all the divisions, and restraints, and vexations,
which, in peopled regions, accompany the rights of
property. | | Similar Items: | Find |
|