reign of Henry VIII. was beheaded on Tower Hill. He is described as being "excellent in arts and in arms; a man of learning, a genius, and a hero; of a generous temper and a refined heart, he united all the gallantry and unbroken spirit of a rude age with all the elegance and graces of a polished era." Very literary and an accomplished writer, his songs and sonnets showed rare merit, and as with Sir Philip Sidney, the finest spirits of his age delighted to call him "friend." Treason was imputed to him upon the most frivolous pretences, the principal of which was his quartering the arms of Edward the Confessor with those of Howard, a custom justified by the practice of his family, and the sanction of the heralds. His brave defence served him little, and he was condemned by a jury, not of the peers, because he was not a parliament lord, but by commons, whereupon judgment of death was given and he was executed. His father, the Duke of Norfolk, was imprisoned in the Tower at the same time, and escaped execution merely because the king himself died before signing the death warrant. Yet so powerful were his enemies that when pardon was given by proclamation to all persons for all crimes whatsoever, six names only excepted, he was included in this number, and remained a prisoner until the day Queen Mary made. her triumphant entry into London, when, without any pardon or restitution, he was allowed to be Duke of Norfolk, and had his lands restored.

In the breakfast-room at Arundel, which is situated between the billiard-room and large north drawing-room, hang two fulllength portraits of Edward Howard, eighth earl and eighth duke of his family, and Mary his wife, whom he married in 1727; and between the two is a second picture of this celebrated Duchess Mary, who is described as having been "gifted with great talents, easy and dignified in her manners, and singularly insinuating." She was the daughter and co-heir of Edward Blount, of Blagden in Devonshire, Esq., and the first portrait represents her as a young and fine-looking woman, wearing her peeress's robes, her coronet lying on the table beside her; the other, taken at a much later date, when the fine face has gained in attraction by the great intelligence and strength of character shown in it, amply making up for the loss of its earlier bloom and colouring. A writer of the time tells us that "her house" (Norfolk House) was the centre of whatever was great and elegant amongst both Catholics and Protestants, and by familiarizing them one with

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another their prejudices were softened, and their mutual good-will increased." As yet the Catholic Relief Bill had not been passed, and this fact of Duchess Mary endeavouring to amalgamate the two conflicting parties in the graceful courtesies of social life-no slight undertaking in those troublesome times-goes far to prove that the chronicler's opinion of her character was correct. The religious views of the day so strongly affected a man's public life, that her husband found himself debarred from all participation in public affairs, and occupied himself with his own estates; built new Norfolk House, St. James's Square, and rebuilt. Worksop Manor in Nottinghamshire, the ancient seat of the Earls of Shrewsbury.

When Frederick, Prince of Wales, quarrelled with his father George II., and was turned out of the palace by order of the king, the Duchess of Norfolk offered him and his princess the shelter of old Norfolk House, and there was born the future sovereign George III. Horace Walpole frequently refers to this duchess in his celebrated letters, in one of which occurs the following passage: "The Duchess of Norfolk has opened her new house; all the earth was there last Tuesday. You would have thought there had been a comet, everybody was gaping in the air and treading on one another's toes. In short, you never saw such a scene of magnificence and taste. The tapestry, the embroidered bed, the illumination, the glasses, the lightness and novelty of the ornaments and the ceilings are delightful. She gives three Tuesdays, would that you could be at one! Somebody asked my Lord Rockingham afterwards at White's what was there? He said, 'Oh, there was all the company afraid of the duchess, and the duke afraid of all the company.' It was not a bad picture." Extract from letter to Hon. H. S. Conway, from Horace Walpole, February 12th, 1756. Later on he speaks of her as "my lord duchess," and at an earlier date, August 26th, 1749, he writes from Strawberry Hill to his friend George Montague, Esq., describing a journey he has made: "At last we got to Arundel Castle, which was visibly built for defence in an impracticable country. It is now only a heap of ruins, with a new indifferent apartment clapt up for the Norfolks when they reside there for a week or a fortnight. Their priest showed us about. There are the walls of a round tower where a garrison held out against Cromwell; he planted a battery on the top of the church and reduced them. There is a gloomy gateway and dungeons, in one of which I conclude

is kept the old woman who in the time of the late rebellion offered to show Lord Robert Sutton where arms were hidden at Worksop. The duchess complimented him into dining before his search, and in the meantime the woman was spirited away, and adieu the arms! There are fine monuments to the old Fitzalans, Earls of Arundel, in the church."

Could Horace Walpole see Arundel as it is to-day, would he recognize in the magnificent building forming three sides of a square, on the fourth of which is the "round tower (or ancient keep), which he mentions, as the "indifferent apartment clapt up for the Norfolks!" The "gloomy gateway and dungeons" would be the only remaining traces of his description.

In still another letter to Sir Horace Mann, Walpole makes an allusion to the two conflicting religious factions which reflects but little credit on either. Speaking of one of the fashionable masquerades he says: "There was a stroke of the monkey last night that will sound ill in the ears of your neighbour the Pope. The heir-apparent of the house of Norfolk (Charles Howard), a drunken old mad fellow, was, though a Catholic, dressed like a cardinal. I hope he was scandalized at the wives of our Bishops."

The fair and clever Mary Blount, who seems to have made so strong an impression upon all who knew her, seems also to have shown very early in life that she possessed a will of her own, and had no disinclination for a "lark." It seems that when Edward Howard, Duke of Norfolk, was staying at Ugbrooke, Lord Clifford's place, not far from the home of the Blounts in Devonshire, he and the heir of Ugbrooke, not caring to keep the early hours of their elders, began the amusements of the evening after good Lord and Lady Clifford were fast sunk in virtuous slumbers. Then it was that the high-spirited Mary, accompanied by her sister, would ride over upon horses with muffled hoofs, and join the merry-making of the two youths anxiously awaiting and eagerly welcoming their arrival, when together the four would thoroughly enjoy themselves, undisturbed by the proprieties or the slumbering Cliffords. So at least runs the story, and whether it be fact or fiction it ended as well as a fairy tale, for certain it is that one sister married the heir of Ugbrooke, and the other became the famous Duchess Mary so often referred to.

Leading cut from the breakfast-room is the long north drawing-room, with its heavy peacock-coloured hangings, rich Turkey rugs, and enough valuable curiosities to engage

one's attention for days. More pictures too, one of Philip Howard as a boy, with no foreshadowing of his ruined life in the youthful features, and two quaint portraits to which a peculiarly pathetic story is attached. The boy, who is represented in a stiff, old-fashioned blue coat, tightly buttoned and abnormally long-waisted, is a certain Earl of Sutherland, uncle of one of the duchesses of Norfolk. At the early age of seventeen he married the child of fifteen, also dressed in blue, whose picture hangs opposite him-Elizabeth Maxwell. Horace Walpole mentions her at the coronation of George III. as a 66 very pretty figure." When the little child of this youthful couple was a year old, the two parents, almost children themselves, died on the same day from fever, at Bath. The mother of Lord Sutherland was dressing for a ball when she first heard of her son's illness, and at once started off to nurse her darling, scarcely trusting the inexperience of the little child-wife, his only companion. News travelled slowly in those days, and there were no telegrams to meet the anxious mother at each stage of her weary journey. Arrived at Bath she went at once to the principal inn, where there was no accommodation for her; the place was full, they said, as the morrow was to witness a grand funeral. Poor mother! the "funeral" was to be that of the boy in blue, looking out from his picture to-day in the north drawing-room at Arundel, and of the child-wife hanging opposite to him. Both were carried back to the old home at Sutherland, and buried in the ancient cathedral of Dornach by the broken-hearted mother, who had gone to find her son, and found him thus !

A mural tablet records that "they were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and that in death they were not divided.”

The names of the bedrooms at Arundel Castle could belong to no other house in England, for in virtue of the Dukes of Norfolk being hereditary Earl-Marshals of England, they are called after the officials of the Heralds' College, there being six heralds, four pursuivants, and three kings. The rooms are respectively York, Lancaster, Windsor, Somerset, Chester, and Richmond; Rouge Croix, Blue Mantle, Portcullis, and Rouge Dragon; these four latter being the old nurseries, not the bright and cheery suite of rooms situated at the end of the long corridor, now the especial domain of the little Earl of Arundel and Surrey.

Those named after the three kings are Garter, Norrey, and Clarenceux. The latter is also sometimes called the "Queen's Room,"

from the fact that Queen Victoria occupied it at the time of her visit to Arundel in 1846, and in the same way Garter King of Arms' Room is often spoken of as the "Prince Consort's" for a similar reason. The fittings of Her Majesty's apartment were all of white and gold, with heavy crimson and gold damask; the gilded and awe-inspiring bed having the royal arms of England at the head, and the ducal arms of the house of Howard at the foot. Crowns, the monogram V.R., and the English lion, are upon all articles of furniture, and engravings of different members of the royal family presented by the queen to the mother of the present Duke of Norfolk, hang around the

walls. For the moment these pictures and the actual furniture of the "Queen's Room" have been removed to the York Room. There is also a bedroom called the Earl-Marshal's, situated in the lower gallery, opposite to the entrance of the Baron's Hall.

There are so many things to say of this grand "old castle on a hill," yet one so dreads writing an inventory or compiling a catalogue when telling of the numberless objects of interest met with at every turn. From the moment of mounting the steep hill leading from the town itself, and passing beneath the high stone entrance over which are carved the Howard arms, with the lion crest above them, memories seem to crowd about one, and visions become almost bewildering of the many great and gone who so long ago passed part at least of the "fitful fever of their lives" within the stately walls of Arundel.

So soon as the drawbridge is crossed, and the ancient gateway, dark as a tunnel, is traversed, the whole splendour of the exterior of the castle is before you. The broad drive curves up to the entrance door, which when opened discloses the great double staircase leading to the long gallery already described;

is of carved oak as yet in its natural colour, not darkened by time. The doors of these rooms are singularly fine, of solid oak, with the iron hinges extended across them as in the bed-room doors before referred to, but here the ironwork ornamentation is of a more intricate design. These doors are generally arched in Gothic form, and give an original and at the same time good architectural effect. In this corner room is the same

border of emblazoned coats of arms already mentioned as decorating the diningroom, and also the same open, tiled fireplace, whose blazing logs cheer one's eye, notwithstanding the open windows through which the soft Sussex air is pleasant enough, although the month is November. Books and work and a general air of "livableness prove this bright corner room to be a favourite.

With all its magnificence and grandeur Arundel to a peculiar degree possesses this air of home-like comfort, without which any dwelling-place is spoiled, be it cottage or castle; the crackling wood fires, cosy corners shut off by screens, and tables laden with books, for books are everywhere, the latest and newest as well as the rarest and oldest, all join in adding comfort to splendour.

The beautiful chapel, which is but a few steps from the castle itself, was founded by Richard, Earl of Arundel, in 1380. In 1643 men of Waller's army were quartered in it, and during the time of the Reformation, when the exercise of the Roman Catholic religion was prohibited, the building fell almost to decay. But the fine tombs have been preserved; amongst others that of Thomas, Earl of Arundel, son of the founder, and his Countess Beatrix, daughter of John I., King of Portugal; also that of William, Earl of Arundel, and his Countess Joan, sister to Richard Nevill, Earl of Warwick, the "king-maker." A new roof of carved oak, exactly similar to the original one, is now being put into the chapel, which when

restored will be precisely as it was originally designed. In addition to this the beautiful church of St. Philip has been built by the present duke, and although called a parish church, it might from its size and dignity almost rank with cathedrals. It stands on the hill of the town of Arundel, not ten minutes' walk from the castle.

Leaving the house and passing under the fine St. Mary Gateway, half-covered with ivy, a broad avenue leads to the thickly-wooded park, where in some parts of the drive the trees nearly meet above, forming natural arches of green. To quote Lord Beaconsfield, "the woods were beginning to assume the first fair livery of autumn, when it is beautiful without decay," at the time when we last walked through that lovely park, and the rich colour of the copper beech, the bronze and gold of the oaks and elms, glowed with ruddy tints in the afternoon sunlight. Only the pencil of Turner could do justice to the indescribable softness and tenderness of the landscape, with its broad stretches of emerald turf, and banks of timber sloping gently down to the river Arun gleaming like a silver band between woody hills and grassy shores. Dotted about at intervals under the

branching trees are picturesque groups of deer, the antlered stags with their heads raised proudly, the timid hinds keeping close beside them, and the little graceful fawns darting here and there, leaving scarce a trace on the smooth turf as they go.

In the spring-time the woody walks far from the more open part of the park lead by banks which are one mass of pale yellow primroses, and wild wood-violets, clustering among mosses which cover the banks, and growing close to the trunks of trees which form a leafy screen thick enough to hide from view any ramblers among the fragrant retreats. Even in the winter-time fresh violets are to be found at Arundel, where they are grown in beds under glass, and although plenty of other floral treasures likewise bloom in the castle gardens, it is this sweet-scented Imperial flower which seems peculiarly to belong to the place and is always associated with it.

Much longer could we linger in this "old home," and many more things could we describe about it, but want of space prevents us from giving more than that which was promised at first-a glimpse.

ELIZABETH BALCH,

CHARLES SAYLE.