It had originally
been erected in a field, since planted for covers. This long shed, a
greenish grey from age and mouldering wood, became a place of much
interest. Along the back there were three rows of weasels and stoats
nailed through the head or neck to the planks. There had been a hundred
in each row--about three hundred altogether. The lapse of time had
entirely dissipated the substance of many on the upper row; nothing
remained but the grim and rusty nail. Further along there hung small
strips without shape. Beyond these the nails supported something that
had a rough outline still of the animal. In the second row the dried and
shrivelled creatures were closely wrapped in nature's mummy-cloth of
green; in the third, some of those last exposed still retained a dull
brown colour. None were recent. Above, under the eaves, the spiders'
webs had thickly gathered; beneath, the nettles flourished.
But the end of the shed was the place where the more distinguished
offenders were gibbeted. A footpath, well worn and evidently much used,
went by this end, and, as I afterwards ascertained, communicated with
the mansion above and the keeper's cottage some distance below. Every
passenger between must pass the gallows where the show of more noble
traitors gave proof of the keeper's loyal activity. Four shorter rows
rose in tiers. To the nails at the top strong beaks and black feathers
adhered, much bedraggled and ruffled by weather.
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