From the hall, we pass up the great oak staircase to bedrooms and
corridors containing chests and cabinets full of ancient deeds and
manuscripts, not the least remarkable of which is a parchment roll
upon which is painted a series of mysterious astrological and other
pictures, supposed once upon a time to have been the property of the
necromancer Dr. John Dee, who lived for some time in the
neighbouring town of Upton-on-Severn. If this is really a document of
Dr. Dee's, one would like to see it preserved with the famous crystal
in the British Museum. The old presses and cupboards are full of the
richly embroidered bed-hangings and homespun sheets wrought by
the ladies of the house in the days when their energies were devoted
to domestic purposes, and the idea of hockey or ladies' clubs would
have made their hair to stand erect. There are piles of arras carefully
packed away when wall-paper came in fashion. There are chairs and
tables dating back three centuries or more, and mirrors which have
reflected fair faces patched, with
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head-gear piled up mountain high.