THE COURT, LADY'S MAGAZINE,

MONTHLY CRITIC AND MUSEUM.

A Family Journal

OF ORIGINAL TALES, REVIEWS OF LITERATURE, THE FINE ARTS, MUSIC, DRAMA, FASHIONS, &c. &c.

UNDER THE DISTINGUISHED PATRONAGE OP

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUCHESS OF Kent.

Embellished with an Authentic full-length colored Portrait (No. 117, of this series),

OF

HIS MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY JAMES I.,

KING OF GREAT BRITAIN.

THE LACEY CHRONICLES.

SONNET.

High on a rock it stands, that ancient keep,
The hold of the De Laceys in old days,
Clad now in ivy which the sea-blast sways,
Borne from the turbulent Atlantic deep:
Whilst 'midst its mouldering dead, below the steep
The Church of Holy-cross, secluded, lone,
Hath thro' dim ages echoed prayer and praise,

A shrine where time hath hallow'd each rude stone.

And far in yon fair vale, where no chill breeze
Disturbs the tranquil scene, with its dark groves

Of oak majestic, shelter'd in sweet ease

Behold a house, the antiquarian loves,

Where, with the honors wealth with goodness gives,
The noble race of the De Lacey lives.

Ir is nearly fifty years since, that, in the cheerless month of November, two female friends were sitting together in a large old-fashioned apartment in an ancient Manorhouse on the western coast of England. One was the wife of the owner of the mansion; the other, the playmate and companion of her youthful years, had lately returned from a long residence in India, with that yearning after the scenes and friends of her childhood, known but to those who have endured a long separation. Mr. De Lacey, the owner of Lacey-court, was absent, and Mr. Audley, the husband of the guest, was in London on business, so that the two friends were left to the E-(COURT MAGAZINE) FEBRUARY, 1843.

uninterrupted enjoyment of each other's society, and to the pleasant reminiscences of early days, without the fear of incurring the remarks of those who could not perhaps understand the feelings they excited. In those days, the hours were more rational than at the present time, and the hour of five found the two friends seated by a blazing fire, their dinner over, the shutters closed, the damask curtains drawn, the heavy mahogany table placed between them, themselves most comfortably ensconced in two, large, substantial arm-chairs, their work boxes before them, whilst, slumbering on the thick, warm rug lay a spaniel of the Lacey breed, and a large tabby cat, in most amicable contact.

"I cannot conceive a greater contrast," said Mrs. Audley, " than my situation, at this moment, and two years ago. Then, gasping in the burning clime of India, surrounded by Hindoos and slaves, in society the most uncongenial to my habits, longing for home, disgusted with all around me; now, in dear old England, in a house peculiarly English, with my best and dearest friend-I am really too happy, and expect to wake and find it all a vision."

That Mrs. Audley's present abode was, indeed, as she termed it, truly English, may be gathered from a brief description of it :

It was an extensive building, with steep roofs highly ornamented with stone carvings and devices; innumerable irregularities in the front and sides, here, jutting out into large heavy porches which, in summer, streamed with honeysuckles and jessamine; there, into a broad bay-window with thick mullions. On one side, rose a tall turret, crowned with a peaked roof, and the windows, without any attempt at symmetry, were scattered about, in positions which plainly denoted the ups and downs in the house within. It was, indeed, built with that utter disregard to architectural proportions, so frequent among our ancestors; long passages intersected by short flights of six or seven steps, so ill-lighted by the casemented windows and minute panes, that the sense of touch was more called into action than the sense of sight. These, opening into large, low rooms, with a super-abundance of doors, spacious chimney-pieces, and, here and there, mixed with more modern acquisitions, a tall, narrow bed with the tester fastened to the ceiling and its slender posts most unlike the handsome substantial pillars of later date, the dark curtains embroidered in huge fig-leaves, whose stems straggled along in the true serpentine line, an exception, however, to the assertion that such is the line of beauty; weighty cabinets of costly japan, with their dozens of little shining drawers, long, broad dressing-tables with yellow (né white) satin-worked covers, looking-glasses of huge dimensions and strange irregularity of form, and sets of toilette boxes, some green, some black, some red; chairs of tapestry, which the arms of the degenerate females of our days could not pretend to remove from their places-the walls covered with curious Indiapaper, with pheasants of golden plumage and prodigious tails, picking at scarlet fruit, and surrounded by gigantic butterflies and fearful-looking beetles-the ceilings variegated in all kinds of intricate patterns, here, embossed with the family arms, repeated over and over in innumerable compartments, thence flowing over the whole surface in a maze of flowers, the like of which grew never on earth.

Mr. de Lacey, with the most laudable veneration for a mansion which his ances

tors had inhabited for centuries, the style of which was admirable for its antiquity and the insight it gave into the taste of olden times, preserved every remnant of it with the most scrupulous care; and, without denying himself the various improvements that later times have made in comforts and luxuries, he introduced them so judiciously amongst the stiff and cumbrous frames of past days, that, whilst they contributed to the ease of the inhabitants, they appeared by no means incongruous. Thus, the modern arm-chair united the luxurious cushions and agreeable slope, adopted now with a certain weight and solidity which suited with the heavy settees, whose massive oaken-frames garnished the recesses of the windows, neither inviting the indolent to repose, nor the weary to rest. Every precaution, too, was taken to obviate, or nullify the inconveniences and disadvantages in old houses. The atmosphere was now carefully excluded, which formerly was allowed to blow in, free and unrestrained through door, window, and panel. The passages were matted, every room carpeted; the wide chimneys contracted out of sight, though still retaining the ample expanse below, the old hall yet adorned with enormous stag-horns, its warlike implements of various fashions and centuries, the tattered and faded banners, the crests and heraldry blazoned on wall and ceiling, its heavy dark-oak panels, and floor as black as ebony. And who would have displaced them? The parlour, too, with its low roof, low as compared with the modern, lofty chambers of these days, added to all the sedate sobriety of the olden time the comfort of the present. The pictures of many generations filled every compartment, in every costume of fancy and reality. Here, the soldier of Cromwell's time, clad in armour, beside the gay cavalier with his pointed beard; there, a gay gallant in slashed doublet and frill of point d'Espagne, beside a heavy-looking-man, arrayed in embroidered velvet! Here, frowned a yellow ascetic face from the shadow of a dark, flapping hat, his person enveloped in a black mantle, which a long, thin, ungloved hand grasped tightly on his breast; there, a bald-head with grave, yet placid features, the figure arrayed in a monkish habit, speaking plainly that some of the family had followed the Catholic faith. Nor were the female portraits less diversified, for, some were shepherdesses in hoops, seated under trees, tending their flocks, clad in satin petticoats and high-heeled shoes; some, in the Sir-Peter-Lilystyle, as if stepping across the picture, turning their faces kindly towards the spectator, holding in the tips of their fingers a sprig of myrtle, evidently just plucked from the marble vase beside them; here, a lady holding a scarf on her shoulders, with so light a touch, that the wind, which is evidently blowing, must soon overcome the feeble restraint: some, with the short, formal fringe of ringlet, circling the forehead, whose wide expanse is unbroken, save by the jewelled ornament, renewed in our time under the appellation of a Sevigné; here, a lady, whose taper waist seems panting to escape her satin armour, whilst her dishevelled locks flow over the exposed shoulders, bound by a fillet of pearl-but further enumeration of her apparel were tedious. Suffice it, that the indefatigable industry of Mr. de Lacey, had brought forth from altar and garret, from cobweb and mildew, every representative of his dead ancestry, and, in renewed frames and well-cleansed faces, they occupied the walls, a perfect clan of De Laceys. The exterior of Lacey-court

house, it seemeth to me fitting that I should in a manner requite my debt for nurture and kindness, by a due exercise of my clerkly wit. Therefore, I indite such verities as mine own eyes have witnessed, to the glory of God, and the honor of Sir Humphry de Lacey, my good patron and umquhile master.

Sir Humphry de Lacey lived in his strong-hold in the west country, on the confines of the Welsh lands, and his castle was built firmly on a rock which overhung the sea, and was very stern and terrible to behold; for, by reason of the sudden forays of those from the north, and the incursions of the men of Cambria southward, Sir Humphry and his sire had fortified it with great outlay of gold. It was moreover subtilly contrived with secret passages and subterraneans, and all fortified with many cunning devices to stop the progress of assailants. The walls were of marvellous substance, and only pierced with windows inwards to the court, save in the towers, where the loop-holes looked over the fair sea, stretching far and wide. There was not such another fortalice as Castle Lacey in all the land about. Sir Humphry lived here with the dame his wife, a woman right fair to behold, whom he loved with all his heart; and, in good sooth, she was gentle and humble to him her lord, and of courteous and kind demeanour to all; yet could she not retain my master by her side, as she was full fain, but he would oft-times call together his serfs and vassals, and sally forth on the border lands to return the rude visits of the inhabiters thereof.

At length, there was great rumour throughout the land that our suzerain, King Richard, was minded to join the Holy Crusade and fight in Palestine, and, shortly, its verity was confirmed, and all men of wealth and high degree were invited and urged to accompany the King to the wars against the Infidels. I, whose office of minstrel in the castle, caused that I saw more than others were wont to see, was soon aware that Sir Humphry's mind was bent upon this matter, and it was not long before he unfolded his purpose to the dame, though he feared much that she would seek to thwart him with all the cunning devices of womanhood, and abundance of sighs and tears. And, in truth, the knight saw true. The lady was not, as many in those days, of brave spirit and robust body, who could mount the steed and follow the chase, and think nought of danger and weariness; but she was fair and delicate and of a timorous heart withal, and it misliked her, both that she should so long be deprived of the solace of her husband's company, and moreover that she should be left desolate and forlorn, with none but vassals to defend her against the attacks of robbers and outlaws. It was piteous to hear her tell Sir Humphry that she was an orphan, and had thought he would be to her both father and mother, and ask him if it was keeping his marriage troth to leave her solitary and defenceless in this lone castle with her young children, whose youth made them a heavy care and no support to her, if she was to be their sole protector. And Sir Humphry was fain to cheer her with his " Be of good heart, good wyfe, and look not to our parting in such doleful mood, but, rather, to our merry meeting after a time, which shall not, God willing, be long. None can harm thee, if thou keepest within these goodly walls, Bethink thee, how they are built

and well, I trow, thou wilt not go forth gadding.

with marvellous strength and cunning, and ere thou and thy maidens have finished

the spinning of the napery or broidering the fine arras for the north chamber, I will be back, with our Lady's leave, and make thy ears tingle to hear the wonders I will tell thee of the Infidels and our valorous deeds anent them." But my lady would not be comforted, and wept so sore that Sir Humphry was forced to depart with little content of mind.

I did, with much pain and toil, seek to cheer the forlorn lady by the art of minstrelsy, and I was not weary to play from the dawn of day even unto nightfall, and to recite many a fytte and rhyme to divert her thoughts for a while; but it was in vain, for she would oft-times come forth from her chamber and bid me cease, and say in piteous wise that my music did distraught her head; wherefore, after a time, I played no more, and busied myself with other concerns. I have said, that being not remote from the Welsh coast on one side, and the wild northmen above, there were wont to be frequent forays and incursions, which even the valorous presence of Sir Humphry could hardly repulse, though, certes, he had a brave name for hardihood and cunning devices wherewith to greet them. It is no marvel, then, that, after it was noised abroad that he was away beyond the seas, these lawless marauders waxed bolder, and that we of Castle Lacey were kept in tribulation and vexation of spirit for their sakes. At one time, their ships were descried stealing craftily along the sea, as if prying over our lands to descend thereon; and now, a band of stout robbers, armed to the teeth, would come in the long nights of yule and bear off the flocks and herds which fed on the hills; nay, they did come even to the castle walls, if, perchance, through carelessness of the inmates, they might surprise it, and carry off spoils. Now and then, my lady received tidings of the knight, but it was only brief notice of his well-doing, by the mouth of messengers from the King from the Holy Land, for Sir Humphry was no clerk, more was the pity, as it would have been great solace to the dame to see of his welfare by his own hand; but that could

not be.

Now, in the second year of Sir Humphry's absence, it chanced that a body of Welshmen did with great boldness and fierceness come even under the walls of the castle, and though we greeted them manfully, and from the battlements sent forth a cloud of arrows, and wounded many and slew not a few, so that they fled in dismay, yet was Lady de Lacey overcome with dread, and sent straightway to her cousin Herbert Powys to come speedily and aid her with his presence. Great joy and comfort was it to the poor dame when, from the warden's tower she descried him and a gallant band of followers descending the distant hills into the plain, and making straight for the rock on which the fortalice was built,' and with a liberal heart did she ordain the slaughter of beeves and porkets to recreate them withal. The Master of Powys was of the same years as my lady, his cousin, and a brave and stout knight, fierce and comely to look upon; and, moreover, so free and hearty and merry in his mood, that he won the heart and good will of all he consorted with. After the sojourn of some days, wherein he scoured the neighbouring lands, and struck terror into the lawless, he had long parlance with my lady, and told her for his conscience-sake he would not keep such a troop of followers to be fed from her ores, but that he would dismiss all but a few of the stoutest, and with them would