Castle-Building appears to have been the passion of all ages; while
some have been raising their fabrics on the most solid and lasting
foundations, others have been forming them in the air, where the
structure has been erected with infinitely less trouble, as their own
invention led them to wish, and very pleasant, no doubt, was the
delusion of the moment.
It is now the prevailing taste to read wonderful tales of wonderful
castles; to recall them from the [* Missing words here ]
ages, and represent them as the novelist finds most suitable to the
circumstances of his tale. In times like these, every book that serves
to amuse the mind, and withdraw the attention from scenes of real
distress, without inflaming the passions, or corrupting the heart,
must surely be as acceptable to the reader as it may have been found
pleasant to the writer, and should exempt the latter from the severity
of criticism. Under the influence of this opinion, the Author of the
following sheets has been tempted to send them into the world. She
might, indeed, to evade the danger of having her work condemned,
pretend to have found it in some recess of her favourite ruins, or
to have discovered it artfully concealed in the bottom of an old
chest, in so defaced and mutilated a condition, as to have rendered
it a very difficult and laborious task to collect the fragments and
modernize the language: but the writer of these pages has not been
so fortunate; and, had she attempted to assert so marvellous a
circumstance, she could not have expected any miss of fifteen would
have been credulous enough to believe her.
The thought of publishing a novel, under the title given to these
volumes, has long been her intention,--a thought which originated
from her living within the distance of twenty yards from those
venerable ruins, which still attract the attention of the stranger
and the curious. Often in early youth had she climbed their loftiest
summits, and listened with pleased and captivated attention to the
unaccountable tales related by the old and superstitious, and
considered as real by herself and her inexperienced companions.--In
one place, it was said the ghost of an ancient warrior, clad in armour,
took his nightly round to reconnoitre scenes endeared by many a tender
claim. In another, a lovely female form had been seen to glide along,
and was supposed to disappear on the very spot where it was imagined
her lover had fallen a victim to the contentions of the times.
"Her face was like an April sky
Dimm'd by a scatt'ring cloud;
Her clay-cold lily hand, knee-high,
Held up her sable shroud."
All these circumstances added strength to a romantic turn of mind,
which acquired additional force from a love of reading the old
romances, and this propensity for the marvellous was for some time
indulged in the midst of scenes which afforded ample scope for the
creative excursions of fancy. After having left her paternal dwelling
many years, she is again replaced in it by some of those changes
which so frequently occur in the progress of human life; and has
purchased the little spot of ground on which stands the principal part
of all that now remains of Bungay Castle, and which, though a mere
heap of unconnected ruins, are still so venerable as to excite, in
the feeling and thoughtful mind, a sympathetic regret at the
instability of human grandeur and the weakness of human strength.
Among these ruins, once the property, and, in all probability, the
temporary residence, of the noble house of Norfolk, cottages are now
built, and inhabited by many poor families, and those very walls,
which perhaps sheltered royalty, are now the supporters of miserable
hovels. Such are the awful effects of time, and the unaccountable
revolutions it produces!
But, were it in the Author's power as much as it is her inclination,
she would adorn their venerable remains with all the flowers of spring,
and the tempting treasures of autumn should surround them. The
jessamine and honey-suckle should clasp them in their embraces, and
the tendrils of the vine and the fig-tree should encircle and decorate
them with their luscious sweets. She would, on the loftiest corner of
their remains, build herself a little hut, in which she could sit and
contemplate the variegated scenes around. She would reverse the order
of things, and render them as lovely and beautiful in age, as they
were grand and magnificent before time had robbed them of those
envied and valuable properties which it cannot restore.
Being again in the habit of spending many leisure hours in this
favourite spot, endeared to her for bringing to remembrance the
enlivening scenes of youth, and, having opportunities to pursue her
sedentary amusements, she determined to accomplish her design, seeing
no reason why Bungay Castle should not be as good a foundation for
the structure of a novel as any other edifice within or without the
kingdom. But, as so many ages are elapsed since this Castle was reared,
and since time and death have swept away with ruthless hand almost
every vestige of what it once was, she has to lament, and so perhaps
may her readers, that she was furnished for this employment with no
other materials than the scanty portion her own imagination afforded.
She has borrowed some real names, and she hopes the characters she
has introduced will be found neither disgusting nor unnatural. But,
as Solomon so many centuries ago declared, there was nothing _new_
under the sun, she cannot surely be condemned for not producing new
characters, nor blamed if any contained in this work resemble those
of the present day; and, though in the reigns of our first sovereigns,
and many of their successors, the customs and manners of the people
were somewhat different, she is convinced the world was in many
instances just the same. The same virtues, vices, and passions,
degraded or ennobled human nature; and, though delicacy, sensibility,
and refinement might be less known, and not so frequently mentioned,
they no doubt retained as proper and powerful an influence over the
mind. Love too, that invincible and all-subduing passion, implanted
in the heart of man from the beginning of the world, was as generally
known and acknowledged by the king and the peasant, the hero and
the coward.
This painfully leads to an observation, which, while it is humiliating,
has too much truth for its foundation to admit of dispute, that,
though the same vices which disgrace the present times were practised
in the earliest ages, more pains were then taken to conceal them from
public observation, and the conduct, of which the modern fine gentleman
or avowed debauchee will now proudly boast, would then have been
considered as sufficient to stamp the character with indelible infamy.
By our unfashionable progenitors modesty was distinguished and admired
as the most becoming ornament of woman; adultery was punished, and
seduction held in contempt; the artful betrayer of unsuspecting
innocence was pointed at by the finger of derision, and the victim
of baseness compelled to conceal her shame either in the shades of
retirement or the seclusion of a nunnery. We may justly lament, if
we are not permitted to condemn, that in this respect the present age
is not quite so sensitive, and may shed the tear of regret at being
so often forced to look down with pity, when we meet, at almost every
corner of our streets, the unblushing front of degraded beauty, and
our ears are shocked with the execrations of profligacy from lips
that in early life had been taught to speak a language as pure as
their own uncontaminated hearts.
The author of these pages has not attempted to enter on the politics
of the past or present times. Had she ever cherished such a design,
the sentiments of one of the first* and most interesting writers this
age has produced, would instantly have determined her to decline her
intention, but she had ever thought that so heterogeneous a mixture
was not likely to please the taste of many readers, and that a novel
was never intended as a vehicle for politics, any farther than it
was necessary for the elucidation of the story. Firmly attached to
her King, perfectly satisfied with our laws and constitution, and
grateful to heaven for being permitted to live under so mild and just
a government. In a country where freedom and plenty have hitherto
taken their stations, and shed their most benign influence, she will
ever remain contented to leave politics and the affairs of state to
be settled by better, wiser, and more experienced heads.
[Footnote:* Mr. Cumberland]
Gentle reader, we will now enter upon a story, of whose origin you
are informed. If any, who sit down to read it with minds tortured by
mental or bodily diseases, should find a temporary relief from misery
or languor, the Author will consider it as a luxuriant reward for
her employment. If, on the contrary, they should be disappointed, or
dissatisfied, she sincerely wishes they may meet a more agreeable
entertainment from the next publication thrown in their way.
To the Reviewers she takes this opportunity of publicly making her
acknowledgements for the liberality and candour they have invariably
shewn to her former publications; and, though she has never had the
satisfaction of being personally known to any one of them, she has
for many years considered them as friends.