PRINCIPAL SEAT OF HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NORFOLK, K.G.

[Illustration]

Since William rose and Harold fell,

There have been Counts of Arundel;

And Earls old Arundel shall have,

While rivers flow and forests wave.

<g>The Castle of Arundel</g> enjoys a twofold celebrity, in its great antiquity

and in its peculiar privilege of conferring the title of Earl on its

possessor. The former reverts to a period much anterior to the conquest;

the latter was hereditary in the eleventh century, and confirmed by Act

of Parliament in the sixth year of the reign of Henry the Sixth. But its

chief and enduring interest is derived from the long list of warriors

and statesmen whose names are identified with the place; and whose

deeds, during the lapse of eight centuries, have shed lustre on the

national history.

The earliest recorded notice of Arundel occurs in the will of the Great

<g>Alfred</g>[2], in which he bequeaths it, along with other lordships, to his

brother’s son Athelm. It is described in that document[3] as a manor,

but without any specific distinction in its privileges from those of

Aldingbourn, Compton, and Beeding, with which it is associated; and to

Godwin and his son <g>Harold</g>, who were successively earls of Sussex[4], it

passed, in all probability, in the same form. It was not till the

overthrow of the Saxon dynasty[5], however, that Arundel assumes a

prominent station in history as a native fortress of strength and

importance[6]. Among the train of warlike barons who attended the Norman

in his successful expedition to our coast, was Roger de Monte

[Sidenote:

1066 {

1070. {

]

Gomerico, or <g>Montgomery</g>, nearly related to the Conqueror by blood, and

possessing extensive territories in Normandy[7]. At the battle of

Hastings, which placed the British crown on the head of William,

Montgomery led the

[Illustration]

centre division of the army[8], and contributed to the victory. In

return for this important service, and to bind him more firmly to his

interests, the Conqueror four years afterwards bestowed upon him the two

comtés, or earldoms, of Shrewsbury and Arundel[9]. Of the six rapes[10]

into which Sussex is divided, two, comprising Chichester and <g>Arundel</g>,

and calculated to contain eighty-four knights’ fees[11] and a half, were

set apart to form the honour[12] of Arundel. Of this and his other

princely territories, Montgomery retained possession during a period of

twenty years; and the ample revenues which they produced enabled him to

support that dignity, splendour, and host of retainers which bespoke the

rank of one of the great vassals of the crown. He was a man, according

to Orderic[13], of exemplary prudence and moderation; a great lover of

equity, and of discreet and modest persons. When he perceived his end

approaching, the attachment which he had always felt for a religious

life induced him to solicit admission to the Abbey of Shrewsbury, which

he had founded; and there, three days after he had assumed the monastic

habit[14], he expired in the month of July, 1094. Of his family,

consisting of five sons and four daughters, an account will be found in

the Appendix.

[Sidenote:

1098 {

1102 {

]

On the death of Roger Montgomery, his English possessions descended by

will to <g>Hugh</g>, his younger son, whose life, like that of his brother

<g>Robert</g>, was spent in wars of retaliation and aggression; seconding the

enterprises of the turbulent nobles of his period; alternately opposing,

and punished by, the king. When an attempt was made upon the island of

Anglesea by the king of Norway[15], Hugh made all haste to give him a

warm reception; but although the enemy was put to flight, one of his

arrows taking effect upon the Earl of Arundel[16], entered at the eye,

and passing through the brain, struck him dead from his horse. He was

buried in Shrewsbury. From Hugh the earldom passed to his elder brother

Robert, Comte of Belesme, in La Perche, on payment of a fine to the king

of three thousand pounds--an immense sum at that period. But on the

revolt of the latter, when his possessions were forfeited to King Henry

the First, the honour and castle of Arundel were resumed as property of

the Crown.

By <g>Henry</g> they were settled in dower upon his second queen, Adeliza,

daughter of Godfrey, Duke of Lorraine, who on the death of the king

conveyed them by a second marriage to William de

[Illustration]

<g>Albini</g>, lord of Buckenham in Norfolk, of whose descendants we shall make

more deliberate mention hereafter. When the Empress <g>Matilda</g>, daughter of

Henry the First, and mother of Henry the Second, landed in England in

1139, to assert her claims against the usurper Stephen, she was

received, as will hereafter be noticed, at Arundel, and lodged with her

retinue in the castle--an event which served greatly to advance and

establish the fortunes of Albini. For the news of her landing having

alarmed the Usurper, he drew his forces immediately under the walls, and

laid close siege to the castle. Albini, however, not only preserved his

royal guest from violence, but, by good generalship or caution, secured

for her a safe-conduct to Bristol, from which she took shipping and

returned to the Continent.

On the accession of her son, Henry the Second, this and other faithful

services were not forgotten by the sovereign, who, to testify the sense

in which he viewed Albini’s devotion to his cause, confirmed to him and

to his heirs for ever the honour and castle of Arundel[17]. He died in

1176, and William, his son and successor, in 1196.

<g>William de Albini</g>, the third in regular descent who enjoyed the earldom

of Arundel, is well known in history as one of the barons who signed the

Magna Charta, and otherwise evinced himself one of the most talented and

enterprising men of his day. Having died on his way home through Italy

in 1221, he was succeeded by his son William, the fourth earl, who dying

early, without issue, was succeeded by his brother, <g>Hugh</g> de Albini, the

last of the race. Hugh died in 1243, leaving four sisters, or their

representatives, as his co-heirs, amongst whom, under a special

commission from the Crown, his manorial estates were divided. Of these

four sisters, the second, Isabel, had married Fitzalan of Oswaldestre;

and to her son John Fitzalan, as nephew to the late Earl Hugh, the

castle of Arundel and all its appurtenances descended by inheritance.

This was the beginning of a new line of Earls--the Fitzalans of Arundel,

six of whom in succession held that distinguished rank in the state.

[Illustration]

<g>The Fitzalan Family</g>, like those of Montgomery and Albini, was of Norman

origin, and descended from Alan, the son of Fleald, who attended the

Conqueror at the battle of Hastings, and received, amongst other spoils

of the vanquished, the castle of Madoc-ap-Meredith in Wales, with the

lordship of Oswaldestre in Salop. His wife was a daughter of

Warren-the-Bald, sheriff of Shropshire, and consequently grand-niece of

Roger Montgomery. By her he had two sons; William, who, adopting his

patronymic, was called Fitz-Alan; and Walter, who, pursuing his fortunes

in Scotland and being appointed by King David grand-steward of the

kingdom, became the progenitor of the royal family of <g>Stuart</g>[18].

William Fitzalan, the elder brother, married Ellen, daughter of William

Peverel, and niece of Robert, Earl of Gloucester, and with her obtained

a large accession of property in Bretagne. He defended Shrewsbury

against Stephen, fought with the Empress Matilda at Winchester, and at

the accession of Henry the Second was appointed sheriff of Shropshire.

At his death he left an only son, William, whose marriage with Isabel,

daughter and heiress of Ingelram-de-Say, added the extensive lordship of

Clun to the patrimonial possessions of the family; when the titles of

Clun and Oswaldestre were first united, and continue in the Howard

family to the present day. After the death of William, the first lord of

these honours, his son and successor survived him only five years, and

leaving no issue, the property devolved on his brother, John Fitzalan,

who, in concert with the Barons, opposed the tyrannical measures of the

king, and was appointed by Henry the Third one of the Lords Marchers in

Wales. At his death he was succeeded by his only son, the subject of

this notice, and first of his family who was Earl of Arundel.

On two occasions, however, the family honours and property were

alienated by attainder, and given in the first instance to Edmund, Earl

of Kent; and in the latter to Holland, Duke of Exeter. This took place

in the persons of Edmund the third, and Richard the fifth earl; but in

both cases their sons were restored to that station and inheritance

which their own political offences had forfeited.

[Sidenote:

1415 {

{

]

<g>Thomas</g>, the sixth earl of the Fitzalan line, dying without issue, left

three sisters as his co-heirs. But his grandfather, Richard, in order to

prevent the further division of the honour, had entailed it first upon

his Countess for the term of her natural life; and then on the heirs

male of his own body, by the said Countess Alianor, with remainders

over. In pursuance of this arrangement, therefore, the castle and

estates of Arundel passed, on the demise of Earl Thomas, to his

second-cousin, John Fitzalan, Lord Maltravers, from whom it again

descended through a succession of seven earls of the united families of

Fitzalan and Maltravers--many of them highly distinguished, and

terminated in Henry, the twenty-second Earl of Arundel.

<g>Henry’s</g> only son, a youth of splendid accomplishments, had died at

Brussels; and of his two daughters, Joan, the elder, was married to Lord

Lumley; and Mary to Thomas Howard, fourth Duke of Norfolk. But the

latter, having died after giving birth to a son, Philip Howard; and the

other, Lady Lumley, having been married twenty years without issue; a

fine was levied in 1570, by which the earl, ten years previous to his

death, entailed the castle and honour of Arundel, with a numerous list

of parks, forests, lands, estates, &c., upon Lord Lumley and Joan, his

wife, for the term of their separate lives, remainder to the lawful

heirs of the said Joan, remainder to Philip, son of Mary, Duchess of

Norfolk, and his heirs.[19]

[Sidenote:

1581. {

{

]

<g>Philip</g>, first of the Ducal House of Howard invested with the title of

Earl of Arundel, continued in the enjoyment of his honours only during

the short period of eight years, when, as will hereafter appear, he was

attainted in 1589, and his estates forfeited to the crown. Fifteen years

later, however, they were restored to his son Thomas, on the accession

of King <g>James</g>, who was anxious to redress the wrongs of the father, by

extending the hand of royal favour to the son. This event in the

fortunes of the Howard family took place in 1604; and from that period

down to the present time, the title has passed without interruption

through a line of descendants--

Cui genus a proavis ingens, clarumque paternæ

Nomen erat Virtutis.

<g>With</g> this brief and hasty sketch of the origin of the Castle of Arundel

and its powerful lords, whose deeds and destinies shed around its

history feelings of mingled sympathy and admiration; we turn aside to

view the fortress, whose apartments have been the hereditary asylum and

berçeau of patriotism, chivalry, piety, and British independence, during

a period of eight centuries.

Combien de souvenirs ici sont retracés!

J’aime à voir ces glacis, ces angles, ces fossés,

Ces vestiges épars des siéges, des batailles,

Ces boulets qu’arrêta l’épaisseur des murailles.

[Illustration]

To the great antiquity of Arundel Castle we have already adverted.

BEVIS[20]--a hero of romance--is currently believed to have been its

founder; but however easily this may be disputed, the fact of its having

been a royal fortress, long before the Conquest, seems fully

established. The earliest recorded evidence to this effect appears in

the Domesday Survey, where it is stated that, in the time of Edward the

Confessor, the castle of Arundel[21] rendered for a certain mill forty

shillings, for one pasture twenty shillings; and that between the town,

the port, and the customs of the shipping, it rendered twelve pounds,

and was worth thirteen.

But as the name and epoch of its founder remain in total obscurity[22],

conjecture, however plausible or ingenious, would here be fruitless; and

leaving the fanciful antiquary and etymologist to indulge their several

tastes in exploring the labyrinth of fable, we turn at once to the

broad noon of history, to draw from authentic sources such facts as may

appear in some respects more extraordinary than fiction.

[Illustration]

<g>The Castle of Arundel</g>, in point of situation, presents every advantage

which could be desired for the erection of a military fortress. At the

southern extremity of the elevated platform on which it stands, a strong

wall inclosed the inner court, containing upwards of five acres; on the

north-east and south-east a precipitous dip of the hill, to at least

ninety feet, rendered the castle inaccessible. On the remaining sides, a

deep fosse, protected on the north by a double vallation, and cutting

off all external communication in that direction, secured the garrison

against any sudden incursion or surprise. Or, if assailed,--

From gate and battlemented tower

Fell the warder’s iron shower--

And swift and sharp, from twanging yew,

The feathered shafts incessant flew.

In the centre of this spacious area, rose the <g>donjon</g> or Keep, circular

in form, of enormous strength, crowning a lofty artificial mound, and

commanding a wide and uninterrupted view of all the neighbouring

approaches. The height of the mount, from the bottom of the fosse on the

external side, was seventy feet; on the internal, sixty-nine; and with

that of the walls and battlements, by which it was crowned, presented a

commanding elevation on the east of ninety-six feet; and on the west, of

one hundred and three. The walls, measuring from eight to ten feet in

thickness, inclosed a nearly circular space, varying between fifty-nine

and sixty-seven feet in diameter, which afforded accommodation for the

garrison. The apartments, judging from the corbel stones still

remaining, appear to have been arranged round the walls, converging

towards the centre, from which they received their light, as from an

open cupola. Externally there were neither loop-holes nor openings in

the masonry, from which, as in other keeps, an army could be annoyed; so

that it was only from the ramparts and battlements that the garrison

could repel an assault.--See Dallaway’s Rape of Arundel and Horsted’s

History.

Such in all probability was the ‘Castrum de Harundel’ when the Conqueror

placed it in the hands of Roger Montgomery, and such as it had been

when erected by the wise policy of King Alfred. At this time the Keep

appears to have comprised the whole strength of the place, the barbican

or outer rampart excepted; so that to give it the strength and space of

a Norman castle, by contributing those improvements which the

circumstances of the time demanded, and of which its natural position

was highly susceptible, engaged the first care of its Norman possessor.

The external walls, accordingly, were faced with a new casing of Caen

stone; the whole structure was supported at intervals by broad flat

buttresses; and on the south-east side of the Keep an improved

[Illustration]

entrance was effected, where the Norman art is still visible. It is a

wide semicircular <g>archway</g> cut through the solid wall, ornamented on the

inner side with a plain torus moulding, and terminated on the outer by a

smaller arch, richly carved with the chevron and other ornaments in

common use during the latter part of the eleventh century.[23]

But of all the architectural improvements effected by Roger Montgomery

in the wide area beneath the Keep, the most conspicuous in the present

day is the great Gateway. It consists of a square tower standing over an

arched way, which forms the entrance to the court, and communicates with

the Keep by a raised passage carried across the moat, and terminated by

a flight of steps. The upper part of this tower is supposed to be the

work of the thirteenth century; but the lower portion, comprising the

whole of the covered-way, retains its original stamp, and presents a

striking specimen of Norman taste. The arch is circular, without a

keystone, and quite destitute of ornament. The arch, as well as all that

remains of the ancient front of the tower, is composed of square blocks

of Pulborough stone, the angles of which still preserve their original

sharpness. A portcullis was formerly placed at the outer extremity of

the passage, which was probably still further strengthened by a

drawbridge over the fosse immediately beneath it.[24]--See the

engravings.

The Barbican, or <g>Bebis’ Tower</g>, as it is generally called, is another of

those warlike adjuncts by which the Norman baron strengthened and

improved his new residence. It occupies the north-west side of the ditch

by which the Keep is surrounded, and, notwithstanding the ravages of

siege and storm, presents many of the characteristic features of Norman

architecture. It is an oblong tower, supported by a huge buttress at

each of its angles, and originally was of considerable elevation; but

during the Parliamentary siege, about to be noticed, the upper part was

destroyed, and the temporary roof which now covers it was supplied at a

later period. The whole is now invested with a luxuriant mantle of ivy,

and presents, like the adjoining Keep, a green pyramidal mass of

foliage, through which at intervals the grey stone and white mortar are

discernible. It is haunted ground--

For there, ’tis said, ’mid scenes forlorn,

When midnight spreads her dreary pall,

The blast of Bebis’ bugle-horn

Rings loudly from its ramparts tall.

While, starting to the unearthly sound,

Warrior spectres gather round;

And dismal through the dusky air,

Banners gleam and torches glare--

Till all, at cock-crow, to their shrouds

Shrink away like fleeting clouds.

Under the east end of the Castle is an immense <g>vault</g>, described by a

late historian of the Castle as sixty-six feet in length by nearly

twenty-one feet in width, and upwards of fourteen feet high. The arches

are circular, and formed of square blocks of chalk strengthened by four

transverse ribs of massive stone. The walls, varying in thickness,

present at different parts externally a compact mass of seven feet and

upwards. This is the dismal receptacle in which the unhappy captive whom

the fortune of war had placed at the mercy of his feudal lord, or the

culprit who had violated the laws, were shut up in miserable durance.

Few have ever traversed that dreary vault without an involuntary

shudder, as imagination conjured up the scenes of human agony that must

have transpired unheard, unpitied, under the veil of its sepulchral

darkness--

Where oft, at the dark and midnight watch,

As the sentry walks his round,

The wail of pain, and the clanking chain,

Send forth a dismal sound.

[Sidenote:

1404. {

{

]

A curious instance of escape from this dungeon, in connexion with the

law of sanctuary, is recorded by Mr. Tierney, on the authority of Bishop

Rede’s Register:--A person named John Mot, having been committed on a

charge of robbery, contrived to elude the vigilance of his keepers,

passed the

[Illustration]

enclosure of the castle, and had nearly succeeded in effecting his

retreat, when his flight becoming known, the constable, assisted by a

part of the inhabitants, followed in close pursuit. Finding that he was

likely to be overtaken, the fugitive turned to the College of the Holy

Trinity, and seizing the ring attached to the gate, claimed the rights

of sanctuary. The constable, however, appears to have doubted the

validity of this appeal to ecclesiastical protection, and the captive

was forcibly disengaged, and hurried back to prison. But the

circumstance got wind; rumours of the occurrence soon spread through the

neighbourhood; the immunities of the church and the laws of sanctuary

were said to have been violated; two of the parties who had aided the

constable in securing the offender were summoned before the bishop, to

answer the charge in person. Being questioned, and found guilty, they

were ordered to make a pilgrimage on foot to the shrine of St. Richard,

at Chichester, to present an offering there according to their ability;

to be cudgelled (fustigati) five times through the church of Arundel,

and five times to recite the Pater-noster, the Ave, and the Creed, upon

their knees before the crucifix at the high-altar. Before, however, this

sentence could be carried into execution, it was ascertained that, on

discovery of the error which had been committed, the captive had been

“restored to the church.” The cudgelling was therefore ordered to be

remitted; and an offering of a burning taper by each of the offending

parties at the high-mass on the following Sunday, was substituted in its

place.[25]

Of the <g>Baronial Chapel</g>, believed to have been erected at the same time,

and now converted into the modern dining-room of the castle, little is

known, beyond the fact of its having existed in the latter part of the

thirteenth century[26]. During the minority of Richard Fitzalan, a royal

patent was issued, by which we learn that the king, in right of the

wardship which he possessed, presented to “the chapel of St. George,

within the castle of Arundel.”[27] From that early period, down to the

close of the last century, when the late Duke entered upon his plans for

restoring the castle to its original splendour, this hallowed apartment

had served as the family oratory of the <g>Montgomeries</g>, the <g>Albinis</g>, the

<g>Fitzalans</g>, the <g>Howards</g>. But the rich and beautiful Gothic temple which

the Duke has substituted has, in some degree, compensated for the

metamorphosis to which the primitive altar of the family has been

subjected. The spot, however, where an altar had stood for centuries--at

which so many generations had knelt in their joy or their sorrow; had

paid the tribute of gratitude in prosperity, and implored succour in

adversity; at which the marriage benediction, the baptismal rite, and

the solemn service for the dead, had been so long and often

celebrated--such a spot, however transformed by the hand of man, to

whatever secular purposes converted, possesses that inherent sanctity

which no disguise can obliterate--

Unseen a hallowed incense fills the air,

And mystic voices peal the notes of prayer.

Still round that shrine where once the VIRGIN smiled,

And kings and shepherds hailed the SAVIOUR-CHILD,

A seraph watches with extended wing,

And angel-quires their songs of triumph sing.

[Illustration]

<g>The South-east</g> front of Arundel Castle, which crowns an abrupt descent

overlooking the river Arun, appears, in common with the dungeon already

described, to have been the work of Montgomery, and contemporary with

the adjoining tower. This opinion is confirmed by the close resemblance

of its external masonry to that of the keep; as well as by the remains

of some double round-headed windows, still visible in the walls, and

which strictly correspond with double arches in Winchester Cathedral,

built about the same epoch by Walkelin, cousin of William the Conqueror.

[Sidenote: 1094. {]

Whatever appears to have been necessary for the strength and security of

a Norman baron and his retainers, seems to have been fully and

expeditiously effected by <g>Earl Roger</g>, whose experienced eye and warlike

spirit soon detected the weak points of Arundel Castle, and supplied a

remedy in those massive walls and outworks, which, with a

well-disciplined garrison, must have rendered it impregnable in all the

ordinary extremities of foreign or domestic warfare. The earl who next

employed his taste and munificence in the work, was Richard Fitzalan,

the third of his family, to whom we shall return in a subsequent

notice. Having obtained a patent, authorising him to strengthen the

defences of the town, by enclosing it on the exposed sides with walls,

he appears to have availed himself of the same opportunity to rebuild

the upper part of the old gatehouse, which had now stood upwards of a

century, and to enlarge it on the west by the erection of an external

gateway, a correct engraving of which is here introduced.

[Illustration]

It consists of a long covered passage, “approached originally by a

drawbridge over the fosse;” the entrance is under an “obtusely-pointed

arch without machicolations, defended by a portcullis, and flanked by

two square embattled towers, which are divided into four stories of

apartments.” The lowest of these comprises the dungeons, entirely dark,

and sunk to a depth of nearly fifteen feet below the bottom of the

fosse. The upper rooms are lighted externally by narrow label-headed

windows; and at the west corner a chamber, which extends along the whole

of the covered-way, communicates with one of these apartments. This

central chamber is still perfect, and accessible, by a spiral stone

staircase, from the passage below. In the north wall of the archway is

the ancient sally-port[28], which opens into the ditch. The foundation

of the well-tower, and the construction of the present entrance to the

Keep, are of similar origin with the gateway. Originally it was of

considerable elevation; but having suffered by the united efforts of

time and violence, the upper part was taken down by order of the late

Duke, and the rubbish thrown into the well, which, according to our

cicerone, was three hundred feet in depth[29]. In most of the ancient

fortresses, situated on lofty and commanding situations, the

garrison-well was always an object of paramount interest. The labour and

ingenuity with which it was constructed, and the almost incredible depth

to which it was often found necessary to perforate, before an adequate

supply of that indispensable requisite, pure water, could be secured,

are sufficient to excite our curiosity and admiration.

In the square tower immediately adjoining, on the east side, is “the

present entrance to the Keep. Its narrow pointed arch is concealed

beneath the dark projection of the tower; whilst the portcullis which

once closed its approach, and the steep winding ascent which conducts to

it, must have rendered the position of this garrison impregnable”--so

far as that could be accomplished by art; for it is only in the hands of

the truly brave that any place can be pronounced impregnable[30].

<g>The tower</g>, which is a continuation of that built over the well, is

curiously contrived: its eastern wall is built against the old Norman

door-way, in such a manner as to include within it about one-third of

the open space of the arch. Parallel with this wall, on the inner side,

is another erected about three feet distant, forming a long narrow slit

within the tower, which, by means of the enclosed portion of the ancient

arch, opens a direct communication with the interior of the Keep. Over

this covered space is a sort of stone funnel, resembling a chimney, with

an opening into a chamber above; and immediately below, at the base of

the outer wall, is a very small pointed arch, which is supposed to have

been intended either as a sally-port, or as a private entrance to the

fortress when other avenues were necessarily closed. Scarcely rising

above the surface, it escaped observation, and enabled a spy to

disappear almost as if he had sunk into the earth; whilst, in case of

discovery or of an enemy attempting to force a passage by this aperture,

the funnel above presented a prompt sluice, through which melted lead,

boiling water, and other destructive missiles could be discharged upon

the heads of the intruders, so as completely to cut of all access to the

interior[31].

[Illustration]

The ancient Chapel or <g>Oratory</g> of the garrison is another of those

architectural features which owe their foundation to Richard Fitzalan.

It was dedicated to St. Martin, and together with that of St.

George--the Baronial Chapel already noticed--is mentioned in Domesday

Survey, as enjoying an annual rent of twelve-pence, payable by one of

the burgesses of Arundel[32]. The view from this consecrated spot, as

observed through the opening of its mutilated arches, offers one of the

finest coups-d’œil in this romantic and commanding position. The chapel

is a relic of great interest--but only a relic, for

Now loud, now fainter

The gale sweeps thro’ its fretwork, and oft sings

The owl his anthem, where the silenced quire

Lie with their hallelujahs quenched like fire.

<g>The Keep</g> of Arundel Castle,--for so many ages the residence of a warlike

garrison,--is now abandoned to the ‘owls and bats.’ Of the former, the

breed is peculiar to the place, and the largest in the kingdom. To the

student of natural history, a visit to their domicile is a treat of no

common interest. Strangers often resort from a great distance to make

acquaintance with them; and many who attach little importance to

Minerva, are struck with the gravity of her representatives in

Arundel-Keep.

[Illustration]

The “portraits,” here introduced, were taken from life, with a peep into

their domestic economy, which is conducted in the old niche-like

fire-place of the garrison, where the steel-clad warrior of other days

has often prepared his hasty mess, or chafed his limbs after a cold

night-watch on the battlements. There is here, perhaps, no fox to look

out from the loophole and bay the moon; but these <g>Owls</g> are no unpoetical

substitutes to proclaim the changes that have come over this once

thickly peopled fortress.

When we visited them in October last, they consisted of three couples,

and in size and appearance fully justified the character we had heard of

them. They are not permitted, however, to remain at large; a strong

circular netting is thrown over the Keep, and under this awning they may

enjoy everything--except liberty. They have the advantage also of

separate niches for the enjoyment of connubial happiness: but it is easy

to observe that, not having freedom, they fancy they have nothing worth

having. The custodé, in order to show them off to advantage, dislodged a

couple; and certainly the expanse of wing which they showed in their

flight to the opposite side, was much more like that of an eagle than an

owl. At that moment the fact of their being prisoner seemed to have been

forgotten; for when removed from their perch by an unceremonious ‘poke’

of the keeper’s rod of office, they made an ambitious attempt to soar at

once into the sky; but the netting was too strong, and, compelled to

keep a horizontal flight, they dropped sulkily into a niche in the

opposite wall, with a peculiar barking sound, very expressive of

indignation and disappointment.

Several of these horned owls, as curious specimens of natural history,

have been stuffed, and advanced to posthumous honours in the Castle

gallery. With one of them, the patriarch of the family, an anecdote is

connected, which in justice to his memory we think it our duty to

record:--Some years ago an elderly gentleman on his way through Arundel,

took advantage of a short halt at the Norfolk Arms to visit the Castle.

He was much pleased, as all sensible visitors must be, with everything

he saw, but most with the grave moping owls of the Keep. But of all the

family, one in particular had a sagacity of expression which appeared to

engross the whole attention of his visitor. His horns long, and

horizontally projecting from either temple; his scarlet-coloured eyes,

that seemed as if they had become inflamed by long-continued study; his

wings that hung loosely about him like a professor’s gown; his face, his

feet--every feature in short, seemed to say--This is no common owl.

‘He’s a sagacious fellow, this!’ observed the stranger. ‘Very, sir,’

said the keeper, ‘very!--We always calls him the Chancellor.’ ‘The what?

the chancellor?’ ‘Yes, sir; sometimes the chancellor and sometimes Lord

Eldon--he’s so very wise!’--the stranger was highly amused at finding a

namesake under the ivy in Arundel Keep; and we need scarcely add that

the visitor was, in fact, the chancellor himself--the late venerable and

learned Lord Eldon.

[Illustration: A]s an ‘ivy-mantled tower,’ this <g>Keep</g> is without a rival

in all we can recollect of foreign and domestic castles. The artificial

mound on which it stands, is a dense mass of ornamental trees and

shrubs--half girdled by a solitary walk along the bottom of the ancient

fosse, over which the redundant verdure throws a delicious freshness. On

the side facing the open court, the masonry of the Keep is concealed

under a thick mantle of ivy, which climbs to the very summit, and in its

ascent, flings its luxuriant festoons over every projecting fragment.

The interior is clothed with the same perennial drapery; and once

deserted by man, nature has taken the ruin under her own immediate

protection--repairing the shattered walls, filling up every blank, and

mantling the whole in her own livery.

To those who are fond of romantic scenes and impressions, it would be

difficult to select a more congenial spot than the Keep in question;

particularly by moonlight, when all the rich and waving outline of the

ruin is brought forward in bright silver tracery. In certain conditions

of that luminary, the effect of light and shade is peculiarly striking;

and it requires but little assistance from imagination to embody, among

its isolated projections, the airy forms of sentinels planted at various

intervals; their arms coming every now and then into sudden relief, as

the moon touches the glittering leaves with her

[Illustration]

fitful light, and the night breeze communicates to the detached branches

a sort of temporary, life-like movement. It is then that airy visions

are said to haunt the place, and not unfrequently cross the path of the

intruder:--

For oft on the mouldering Keep by night

<g>Earl Roger</g> takes his stand,

With the sword that shone at Hastings’ fight,

Firm grasped in his red right hand!

Then he calls his spectre-knights by name--

To their spectre-Chief they fly

When each gauntlet rears its bristling spears,

To their Norman battle-cry!

But beware--beware to wander there,

At the mass of the blessed Yule

When, with spectral forms in glittering arms,

That haunted Keep is full!

’Tis then they shout, as they shouted once

When our Saxon standard fell;

And the Norman blade its carnage stayed

At the sound of <g>Harold’s</g> knell! etc.--MS

Of the four original towers, planted at regular intervals around the

enclosed space beyond the Keep, all, with the exception of the barbican

already mentioned, appear to have been the work of the period in

question. They are of the same form as that of the outer gateway, and

have the facilities of free intercourse by means of a connecting walk

along the ramparts. They were all dismantled during the last siege; but

in the ruins which still remain, the characteristic style of Earl

Richard is apparent. Two sally-ports of the same date, and at opposite

sides of the enclosure, may still be seen in a state of

preservation.--See ‘History of the Castle.’--50.

The next embellishment bestowed upon the Castle of Arundel was the <g>great

Hall</g>. It was erected by Richard, grandson of the Richard Fitzalan whose

taste and munificence had contributed the addition already mentioned.

[Illustration]

It was in the style of Edward the Third; with an entrance from the

court, through a deep pointed doorway, under a plain projecting porch.

The hall itself was entirely demolished during the Parliamentary siege

referred to in these pages; but the remaining doorway continued to

indicate the splendour of the original design, till its place was

occupied by a still more striking and elaborate structure--<g>the Barons’

Hall</g> of the present century.

The last addition to this baronial seat of so many illustrious families,

was the wing on the north-east side; but when the restoration of the

Castle was commenced under the auspices of the late Duke, this was

removed to make room for the great library. The character of its

architecture was that of the time of Henry the Eighth. It consisted of

the family apartments, with a splendid gallery, a hundred and twenty

feet in length, lighted by eight windows looking into the court, and

erected by Earl Henry, the last of the Fitzalans.

In the preceding outline we have endeavoured to convey a general idea of

the Castle of Arundel, as it appeared at the commencement of the

seventeenth century--enriched by the labour of centuries, and the

accumulated fame of the Montgomeries, the Albinis, the Fitzalans, and

the Howards; all of whom had manifested a strong attachment to the

place, strengthened by associations which connected them with the most

brilliant events of English history, and identified their names and

fortunes with those of Arundel. But at the disastrous period of the

great civil war, the noble proprietor was an exile. The succession of

calamities, which had given the family history of his immediate

predecessors such mournful interest, was still felt in its consequences,

and contributed, with other causes, to invest the fortress of his

ancestors with many bitter as well as bright remembrances. Under these

circumstances, the possession of Arundel Castle became an object of

sanguinary contention between the Royal and Parliamentary leaders, and,

being alternately taken and retaken, was as often delivered up to the

reckless fury of its captors.

[Sidenote: 1642.{]

<g>Sir Ralph Hopton</g> having received orders to dislodge the Parliamentary

troops, marched from his head-quarters at Winchester, and laid siege to

Arundel. The garrison was not in a condition to offer any effectual

resistance, and on the third day the Royal standard was floating from

the Keep. Placing the fortress in as defensive a position as time and

circumstances would permit, and delegating the command to Sir Edward

Ford, Hopton returned to Winchester. This was too favourable an occasion

to be lost sight of by the Parliament, and <g>Sir William Waller</g> was

instructed to take instant measures for the recovery of the Castle. His

march was greatly facilitated by a severe frost, so that the

cross-roads, which would otherwise have been impassable, were

sufficiently hard to admit of his transporting the cavalry and heavy

ordnance to the scene of action; and on Tuesday, the nineteenth of

December, his guns were directed against the Castle.

On the Friday following, a despatch from Waller was read in the House of

Lords, in which he details the progress of the siege in terms so

characteristic of the times, that we cannot omit its insertion in this

place:--“My Lords, According to your commands, I advanced the last

Lord’s day from Farnham to this place. I could not reach that night past

Haslemere; the nexte day I marched to Cowdray, where we understanding

there were four troopes of horse and one hundred foote, I resolved to

give them the good night; and to

[Illustration]

that end I despatched away two regiments of horse to lay the passage

round; but they were too nimble for me, and escaped hither, where I

overtook them on Tuesday night. The next morning, after we had taken a

view, and found out a place where we might flank their line with our

ordnance, we fell in upon the north side of the workes; and we did so

scower a weedy hill in the park, on the west side of the pond, with our

pieces, that we made it too hot for them, which gave such courage to our

men, that with the same breath they assaulted an entrenchment newly cast

up, and which was very strong. It was drawn from the town gate down to

the aforesaid pond near the mill. At the same time we fell on a narrow

passage near the mill, where they had likewise a double work and very

strong; but in a short time, by the good hand of God, we forced both,

and entered the town with our horse and foote, notwithstanding a brave

sally made by their horse. We beat them into the castle, and entered the

first gate with them; the second they made good and barricaded; and

they are there welcome to stay. I am resolved to block them up, for I

know they are in a necessitous condition. God hath been pleased to

blesse me hitherto with a gracious successe, his great and holy name be

praysed! But truely, my Lord, I am very weake in foote, and my horse so

hackneyed out that they are ready to lie down under us. I expect Colonel

Behre and Colonel Morley here this day.”

The progress of the siege is too lengthy for detail in this place; but

we proceed with a few extracts characteristic of the spirit with which

it was conducted:--“To-day,” says the relation, “Major Bodley did a

notable exploit; he, perceiving divers in the castle looking forth in a

balcone, took unto himself and twelve others their muskets into a

private place of advantage, from whence they already discharged into the

said balcone, and slew and wounded divers of the enemy.” A very ‘notable

exploit’ indeed! the said Major appears to have been one of those heroes

who like ‘to shoot round a corner.’ “The same day,” continues the

narrative, “two sacres were planted in the steeple with divers

musquetiers, who, on Friday morning betimes, played hotly on the enemy,

which appeared on the top of the Castle. (The church steeple is within

easy musket-shot of the battlements.) The same day divers were taken in

their intended escape from the Castle: also, the contents of a pond

being drained, it emptied the wells of water within the Castle, so that

now the enemy began to be distressed with thirst; divers fled from the

Castle and were taken prisoners.” “On Sunday,” agreeably to the record,

“divers more fled; many horses were turned forth, of which our soldiers

made a good purchase; only one of them was shot by the enemy, whose

bloody crueltie and inhuman malice did mightily appear against us, in

that they took and hewed him all to pieces, which, doubtlesse, they

would have done to us, had we been likewise in their power. On Tuesday

the enemy made shew of a salley, but hereupon the drums did beat and the

trumpets sounded; all our men were presently gathered together in a fit

posture to charge the enemy, when they presently took to their heels,

and so manfully retreated. On Tuesday we planted ordnance in a new place

against the Castle, which made the enemy that they durst not peep over

the walls to shoot at us. On Wednesday divers came forth again into the

balcone, having forgot the former danger, whereupon we placed divers

musquetiers in the ruins of an old chappel, from whence we did good

execution upon them”--adopting, it is presumed, the aforesaid practice

of Major Bodley, of shooting round the corner. “On Thursday more of the

enemies were taken escaping out of the Castle, and that afternoon the

enemy hung out a white flag pretending a parley, and calling to some of

our men, delivered them letters directed to our Generall, in which they

desired sack, tobacco, cards and dice to be sent unto them, to make

merry this idle time, promising to return for them beef and mutton; but

the truth is,” says the narrator, “they wanted even bread and water, and

that night did put divers live oxen over the walls of the Castle, for

want of fodder.” In another place he mentions that “some of the enemies

fled out of the castle, and escaped by the river Arun, in a boat made of

a raw oxe hide.” There was also skirmishing between Hopton’s and

Waller’s horse, to the advantage of the latter. “On Friday the fifth of

January, on the eve of capitulation, the enemy,” says he, “began to feel

the fruits of their deserts, being extremely pinched with famine.”

The next letter, dated January 6, 1643, is addressed by Waller to

Lieut.-General the Earl of Essex:--“My Lord, on Thursday the enemy sent

a drummer to me, signifying their willingness to surrender the Castle,

if they might have honourable conditions. I returned answer, that, when

I first possessed myself of the town, I summoned them into the Castle to

yield upon fair quarter; I now took them at their word, and bid them

yield to mercy. That

[Illustration]

night I heard no more of them; but the next morning the drummer came to

me again, with another letter, wherein they disavowed that answer to my

trumpet, laying the blame upon one who, they say, had no more soldiery

than civility, that without their assent or knowledge had given that

language. I sent them answer, that I was very well satisfied, that, in

this disavowing that rashness, they had made room for courtesy; and that

I was contented to give them fair quarter, and that, according to their

desire formerly expressed, if they would send out to me two officers of

quality, I would employ two of equal condition to treat with them about

the particulars of the surrender. Within a short time after, there came

out unto me Colonel Bamfield and Major Bodvil, who pressed very much

that they might have liberty to march away like soldiers, otherwise they

would choose death rather than life; and so broke off. About two hours

after they sent out unto me Lieut.-Colonel Rawlins and Major Moulin,

who, after some debate, came to an agreement with me that this morning

they would deliver the castle into my hands by ten of the clock, with

colours and arms undefaced and unspoiled; and that the gentlemen and

officers should have fair quarter and civil usage, and the ordinary

soldiers quarter. For the performance of these covenants, Sir Edward

Ford and Sir Edward Bishop were immediately to be yielded to me, which

was accordingly done.

“This morning we entered, and are now, blessed be God, in possession of

that place. We have taken seventeen colours of foot, and two of horse,

and one thousand prisoners, one with another, besides one hundred and

sixty, which we took at the first entering of the town, and such as came

from the enemy to us during the siege. I humbly desire that the London

regiments may be sent hither to secure this important place, while I

advance with what strength I have towards the enemy, who lye at

Havant.--I humbly rest,” &c.

The result of this siege was ruinous to the Castle. Its successive

occupation by two hostile garrisons; the destructive means employed from

within for its defence, and from without for its reduction, left its

halls roofless, its noble apartments unlatticed; its Keep, gates, and

battlements rent and neglected; and from that day

“Its huge old halls of knightly state,

Dismantled lay and desolate.”

At length, after an interval of seventy years, <g>Thomas</g> Duke of Norfolk,

having determined to rescue the baronial seat of his ancestors from

utter destruction, repaired the old and added new apartments, till it

was once more in a habitable condition. But the restoration to which we

have more especially to refer in this place, was commenced in 1786 by

the late Duke, who continued it till his demise in 1815--an interval of

nearly thirty years, during which, although he is said to have expended

six hundred thousand pounds in the execution of his plan, it is still

incomplete. The noble proprietor, himself an amateur in the science of

architecture, superintended all the designs; and wherever any precious

relique of antiquity was to be found, it was carefully drawn or modelled

by skilful artists, and introduced into the plan of the Castle. Hence

the richness and variety observable in the doors, windows, niches, and

architectural ornaments so profusely employed on three sides of the

quadrangle.

<g>The grand entrance</g> to the court-yard of the Castle is formed by a lofty

arched gateway of immense bulk, and generally admired for the

architectural dignity and grandeur of the design. The effect is striking

at first sight, and conveys to the mind of the visitor a feature highly

characteristic of a feudal residence. The arch is pointed, surmounted by

a heavy machicolation, and flanked by two hexagonal towers, which,

according to the original design, were to have been ‘encircled with an

external gallery, terminating at each angle in a turret,’ but the design

remains unfinished. Compared, however, with the old gateway, which

speaks so audibly of other times, the modern structure possesses no

interest; and to enjoy the impression, the stranger must endeavour to

divest his mind of the fact that it is a building of yesterday,

otherwise he will be apt to exclaim with Delille, in his indignation of

modern imitations:--

“Mais loin.....

Ces restes d’un château qui n’exista jamais:

Ces vieux ponts nés d’hier, et cette tour gothique,

Ayant l’air délabré sans avoir l’air antique,

Artifice à la fois impuissant et grossier.”

On entering the court through this <g>gateway</g>, the first object that

strikes the eye is a large bas-relief on the opposite side, representing

Alfred the Great instituting the trial by jury on Salisbury Plain. The

spot chosen was by the side of a dead wall. In his left hand is a roll

of parchment, half unfurled, with the Saxon sentence:--“That man fiœbbe

gemot on œlcum wœpentace.” “That man in every hundred shall find twelve

jury.” It occupies a large portion of the front of that part of the

Castle next to the great library, and bearing the appropriate title of

the ‘<g>Alfred Saloon</g>.’ But from the

[Illustration]

faithful and spirited etching here introduced, the reader will obtain a

much clearer idea of the subject than from any description. It is

strictly historical, and was designed by Rossi. It is probable, however,

that this admirable institution did not originate with Alfred, but that

it was only improved and perfected by him[33].

On the right of the gateway stands the Baronial Chapel, a modern

erection of florid Gothic, with pinnacles, niches, buttresses, all in

the best taste and of elaborate workmanship. The interior is not

finished, but the duke intended to have done so after the models of

ancient Saxon and Norman churches, copies of which had been already

procured at the time of his demise.

Adjoining the chapel is the <g>Barons’ Hall</g> or banquet-chamber, a building

much admired. Over four beautiful Saxon arches is a raised parapet,

along the base of which are seen, sculptured in stone, a variety of

hieroglyphic figures, taken from antique designs, illustrative of the

family history, and procured from the Herald’s College, of which his

Grace is hereditary Earl Marshal.

[Illustration]

The south side of the quadrangle is part of the ancient structure,

restored from the ruinous condition in which it had been allowed to

continue from the last siege, down to the accession of the late Duke to

his family honours. It consists of an entirely new front of massive

stone, which differs from the others in exhibiting the insignia of the

Howards in union with those of their predecessors. The grand entrance is

in the Norman style. It is twenty-eight feet wide from the abutments,

fronted with Portland stone, curiously carved, and worked with infinite

intersections of wreathed vine-leaves, roses, laurel, oak, acorns, and

other vegetable emblems. The top is finished with a line of artificial

stone in the shape of fence-work, a little elevated. On the right of the

doorway is a colossal statue of Hospitality; and on the left is another

of Liberty, as seen in the view of the Court already introduced.

The north-east wing, which contains <g>the Library</g>, was commenced in 1801.

Its basement is formed upon the Norman model; its upper part is in the

style of Henry the Sixth, with a projecting square tower in the centre,

and lighted from an oriel window. The sculpture and carving upon the

windows and doorways exhibit much delicacy and beauty of workmanship.

Those under the bas-relief, in front of the Alfred Saloon, are of

elegant design and finish. The Library here mentioned is an apartment of

great magnificence; it measures one hundred and seventeen feet in length

by thirty-five in width, and is, beyond doubt, one of the finest

specimens of modern Gothic in England. It displays the grandeur of

ancient designs under the delicate finish of modern art, and brings into

one view specimens of almost every ornament of which, during the

fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the graceful Gothic presented so

many exquisite combinations. The book-cases and reading-galleries are

supported by fifteen columns wrought out of the richest Spanish

mahogany; while the ‘spidered roof’ displays a beauty of workmanship and

delicacy of carving, enriched with fruit-foliage, which have seldom been

surpassed. It is divided into several compartments for reading recesses,

and communicates with the Alfred Saloon by two magnificent

folding-doors. At present, however, the shelves are sparingly furnished,

and the mahogany--rich and elaborate as it is--offers a striking

contradiction to those ideas of antiquity which the Gothic carving might

otherwise convey. The chimney-pieces are of fine Carrara marble, and in

their sculpture exhibit pure classical taste.

<g>The great Drawing-room</g> is a spacious noble apartment, and commands an

extensive view of the winding vale of the Arun. It is chiefly

remarkable, however, for the family portraits which adorn its walls and,

to the eye of the historian, throw open a vast and interesting field of

retrospection:

“For, by dim lights, the portraits of the dead

Have something ghastly, desolate, and dread.

..... Their buried locks still wave

Along the canvas; their eyes glance like dreams

On ours, as stars within some dusky cave;

But death is imaged in their shadowy beams.”

Of these portraits we noticed about sixteen, one of which is a beautiful

historical piece, by Mather Brown, representing Thomas Howard, Earl of

Surrey, vindicating himself before Henry the Seventh for the part he

took at the Battle of Bosworth. Henry upbraided him with having served

in the cause of the late usurper and tyrant, Richard the Third. “Sir,”

replied Surrey, “he was my crowned king. If the authority of Parliament

had placed the crown on that stake, I would have fought for it. Let it

place it on your head, and you will find me as ready in your defence.”

In the back-ground of the painting, the Princess Elizabeth, sister of

the young princes who were smothered in the Tower, is seen displaying

the red rose as an emblem of the two houses.

Another interesting portrait is that of “Jocky of Norfolk,” father of

the preceding, who fell with Richard at the battle of Bosworth. A third

is the portrait of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, “the delight and

ornament of his age and nation,” whose bright life and tragical end are

familiarly known to every reader.--But to this we purpose to return in a

subsequent part of the work. A fourth is that of Thomas, Duke of

Norfolk, painted by Holbein, whose evil fortunes are so closely

associated with those of Mary Queen of Scots. Also the portraits of his

wife, Mary Fitzalan, the last of her family, who died in her eighteenth

year; and of her only brother, Henry Fitzalan, Lord Maltravers, painted

at Brussels.

There are also portraits of the celebrated Cardinal Howard, of “belted

Will Howard,” and of various other members of the same house, by the

eminent painters of the day.

In the furnishing of these state apartments there is little to excite

attention; it combines elegance with simplicity, but contains nothing

gorgeous in colour or texture. The woodwork is nearly mahogany

throughout. Nothing, however, could be more out of place--a wood that

has been known in this country little more than a century, is ill

associated with the Gothic ornaments of a baronial hall. Old English oak

is, beyond doubt, that which best harmonizes with our ideas in such

places. A piece of old oak carving is an object of never-failing

interest to the mind of an antiquary; but in Arundel Castle we observed

no specimens of native ‘gnarled oak,’ except in the “Windsor rooms.”

<g>The Dining-room</g>--formed, as we have already mentioned, out of the

ancient family chapel--is a lofty, spacious, well-proportioned room, and

chiefly remarkable for its great window of stained glass, which still

throws “a religious light” over the banquet. It is quite modern, and the

historical subject selected for its embellishment is the Meeting of

Solomon and the Queen of Sheba--portraits of the late Duke and

Duchess-dowager of Norfolk. “On each side is a beautiful transparency on

plate-glass--one representing the Mercy-seat in the Jewish tabernacle,

the pillars protected by cherubim, with Aaron’s pitcher and rod lying at

the foot of the altar; the other is a fine representation of the

Interior of the Tabernacle, as transmitted to us in the Biblical

account; and both serving to soften and modify the light as it falls on

the great painting in the centre[34].

[Illustration]

The interior of the <g>Barons’ Hall</g>, however, is by far the most

interesting apartment in the Castle, and claims a high station among the

banquet-rooms of modern times. It was designed, in connexion with the

chapel already noticed, to commemorate the triumph of the Barons over

King John, by the signing of the Great Charter at Runnymede. Its

architecture, like that of the appendant chapel, is in the style of the

fourteenth century. It is seventy-one feet in length by thirty-five in

breadth, lofty in proportion, and, as a whole, produces a striking

effect on the spectator. The roof consists of Spanish chestnut,

elaborately carved in imitation of the richest Gothic originals, with

numerous combinations, emblematical groups, and curious workmanship.

The windows are of the acutely-pointed form; the canopies over the

arches, which are ornamented with the lozenge, rest on corbel-heads of

kings; and the transoms form the lower compartment of each light into a

plain unadorned parallelogram. The windows, however, are the grand

attraction, for in these the story of English freedom is brilliantly

told. They are thirteen in number, nine of which are finished, and

filled with stained glass.

<g>The great window</g> illustrates the ratification of Magna Charta by King

John, who, with ‘an indignant but powerless frown, seems to pause in the

act of affixing his signature to the instrument, as if to upbraid the

uncompromising patriotism of the Barons.’ On his right stand Cardinal

Pandolfo, the Pope’s Legate, and the Archbishop of Dublin, who turns his

head in conversation with other prelates behind him. On his left are

seen Cardinal Langton, a mediator between the King and the Barons, but

who administered an oath to the latter, never to pause in the struggle

till they had obtained full concession of their liberty. Behind the

Archbishop stands Almeric, Master of the Knights Templars[35]. In the

foreground appears Baron Fitzwalter[36], with his page[37]; and behind

him are the Lord Mayor[38] of London, and the attendant guards. In the

background is a distant view of the Camp at Runnymede. For chasteness of

drawing, depth of colouring, and sparkling brilliancy, this window is

considered a masterpiece of modern art.

The other eight windows, executed by Edgington, the talented artist

already mentioned, contain full-length figures of eight Barons,

progenitors of the Norfolk family, who were instrumental in procuring

the Great Charter[39]. They are habited in chain-armour, the military

costume of the thirteenth century, each with his armorial bearings

emblazoned on his surcoat and shield. The heads are actual portraits of

various distinguished members of the house of Howard, some of whom are

still living. The effect is superb, and, at first sight, there is some

difficulty in drawing the distinction between the real and the ideal.

The scenes are so finely isolated, and the single portraits so

[Illustration]

prominent, that each appears as if he had the free and unimpeded use of

his limbs, and could step down into the banquet-hall at his pleasure,

“To curb a despot and to save the state.”

The door of this magnificent <g>Hall</g> was first thrown open on the 15th of

June, 1815, being the six hundredth anniversary of the great foundation

of English liberty. For the joyful celebration of this glorious epoch in

the old baronial style, a brilliant assembly of rank and title had

arrived from various parts of the country, among whom were twenty-two

representatives of the ancient Howards. Complete suits of armour, in

which the ancient chivalry of England had gathered the spoils of

victory--some at Agincourt, others at Cressy--were arranged in military

order around the walls. Swords, that, by the evidence on their blades,

had “done the state some service;” helmets that had been worn by the

Howards at Flodden, or by “Belted Will” in some of his Border forays;

chain and scale armour; spears and lances that had often gleamed in

strife and tournament--all the implements of ancient warfare, from the

thick iron casque of the archer, to the elaborate and richly-gilded

harness of the baron, were all reburnished and brought into unexpected

light for this occasion. Nothing, in fact, was omitted that could

increase the interest, by giving an air of striking reality to the

scene. If the spirits of the ancient Barons could have looked down upon

the hall in this hour of gorgeous festivity, they would have rejoiced to

see what a bright inheritance their patriotic struggles had bequeathed,

and have felt that they had become, indeed, immortal in the hearts of

their descendants,

At this <g>banquet</g> nearly three hundred guests assisted. At the upper end

of the table was a noble “baron of beef,” surmounted by the ducal

coronet and the banners of the House of Norfolk. The evening was ushered

in by a splendid ball, at which ‘castled Arundel’

“Had gather’d then

Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright

The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men.”

<g>The ball</g> was opened by the Duke of Norfolk and the Marchioness of

Stafford--late Duchess-Countess of Sutherland--followed by about fifty

couples, who kept up the dance, enlivened by admirable music, till one

o’clock in the morning, when supper was announced, and the Sussex Band

struck up the patriotic air of “The Roast Beef of Old England,” as an

expressive welcome to the hospitable board. The festal scene was

continued till the mailed warriors, niched in the walls and casements,

caught the morning light on their armour; when King John and Baron

Fitzwalter appeared to signify, that as the <g>Grand Charter</g> was now fully

ratified, lord and dame were at “liberty” to retire--wishing

“To each and all a fair good night,

With rosy dreams and slumbers light.”

Among the original Ecclesiastical foundations in Arundel, was the Alien

Priory, or Cell of <g>St. Nicholas</g>, already mentioned. Roger Montgomery,

who had restored the Benedictine Abbey of Seez, in Normandy, granted to

the

[Sidenote:

1102 {

1380. {

]

monks of that establishment, liberty to erect a priory within the town

of Arundel, and the building having been completed, five monks from the

parent abbey arrived and took possession accordingly. In the early part

of the same century, the priory was vacated; and the rectorial residence

adjoining the church, of which William de Albini was patron, was

converted into a residence for the prior and four monks. Thus occupied,

it continued during two centuries to be known as the Convent or Priory

of St. Nicholas. But <g>Richard</g>, Earl of Arundel, having resolved to

connect it with the chapel of his college then about to be established,

obtained from King Richard the Second a grant for that purpose, and on

the site of the ancient priory arose the College of the <g>Holy Trinity</g>, a

quadrangular structure, inclosing a square yard, or court, partly

occupied by cloisters, and partly devoted to other purposes of

[Illustration]

a monastic establishment. On the north side was the Collegiate Chapel,

forming an apparent chancel to the parochial church; on the east were

the refectory and various domestic offices connected with it; and the

remaining sides on the south and west, were occupied by the members of

the fraternity. Within the court was the Master’s house, attached to the

south-east angle of the chapel, with which it communicated by a small

stone balcony on the first story, and a flight of steps, which still

remain, behind the high altar. As the collegiate church was intended to

be the family <g>sepulchre</g> of the founder, every preparation was made to

insure its monumental splendour; and the tomb of his son, Earl <g>Thomas</g>,

was the first of a magnificent series. No stranger can enter this chapel

without being strongly impressed with the classic beauty and elaborate

sculpture of its family monuments. But during the siege already noticed,

these sacred walls were given up as barracks for Waller’s soldiers; and

many of the sepulchral antiquities, with which the place was so richly

adorned, were wantonly mutilated.[40] Six monuments, however, still

remain to fix the attention, and excite the admiration, of all who are

lovers of the arts, or given to the study of Gothic remains. In the

centre is that of Earl Thomas, son of the founder, and his Countess

<g>Beatrix</g>, daughter of John, King of Portugal. It is a large sculptured

altar-tomb of alabaster, formerly painted and gilt, and adorned with

effigies of the earl and countess, in their robes of state. A rich

canopy rises behind the head; and at the feet of the earl is a horse,

the Fitzalan cognizance. At the feet of the countess, two lap-dogs hold

in their mouths the extremity of her mantle. Arranged in niches around

the tomb, are twenty-eight priests, each with an open book in his hand;

and guarding the rim is a series of forty family shields, originally

emblazoned. On the south side of the <g>high Altar</g> is a lofty sacellum,

consisting of an arcade and canopy, composed of elaborate

tabernacle-work, and, in its original state, richly painted and

gilt.--But it would far exceed the limits of this work to convey even a

general idea of these splendid memorials of departed greatness. We were

glad to observe, on our late visit, that the restoration of this chapel

is daily advancing, under the direction of the Duke of Norfolk; and in a

few years, it is to be hoped, may recover something of its original

splendour.

<g>The Church</g>, which forms a principal feature in the general view of the

castle, is a spacious and handsome structure, consisting of a nave, two

aisles, and a transept, surmounted by a low square tower, terminating in

a spire, and forming a conspicuous landmark for mariners. A row of

circular windows inclosing quatrefoils, in the clerestory; an ancient

octagon stone font; a pulpit richly tabernacled in the same material;

several monumental inscriptions, and a roof of Irish oak, proverbial for

its durability, are among the

[Illustration]

objects that deserve attention. In one of the chapel windows is the

figure of a swallow on the wing, which may claim attention from the

etymologist, as pointing to the oft-contested origin of the name

Arundel; for history and geography, says Mr. Tierney, “the realms of

fancy and romance have all been explored in order to discover its

etymon. One author has amused himself with a rebus founded on the

resemblance between the words Arundel and Hirondelle; and it is not

improbable that the migratory bird here introduced may have been

selected as an appropriate emblem for the chapel window. The conjecture

is, at least, as plausible as another that has been advanced; namely,

that Arundel is derived from Hirondelle[41], the name of Bevis’s

horse.”

<g>The Park</g> of Arundel, which contains much picturesque scenery and many

thriving plantations, was originally the hunting-forest of the ancient

[Illustration]

Counts, and covered a great extent of country, which is now either under

cultivation, or converted into pasture. Beyond the pleasure-grounds,

immediately under the Keep, is the Inner Park, entirely surrounded by an

artificial earth-work, still perfect, and adorned with magnificent elm

and beech trees. The new, or Outer Park, comprises an extent of nearly

twelve hundred acres, enclosed by a high wall with lodges, and stocked

with a thousand head of deer. The scenery is variegated by numerous

undulations of surface--alternate ridge and ravine, grove and glade, and

watered by rivulets that derive their source from the neighbouring

Downs.

At a short distance from the entrance to the Park, on the south side, is

<g>Hiorne’s Tower</g>, the subject of the accompanying view. It is a triangular

building, about fifty feet in height, with a turret at each angle, and

in design and execution presents an admirable specimen of Gothic

architecture. The merit of the design is due to the late distinguished

architect, Mr. Hiorne, who superintended its erection, and left it as a

monument to his name. The view from this tower, under a favourable

atmosphere, presents a magnificent

[Illustration]

prospect of the adjoining Park. The soft pastoral hills that trace their

bold outline on the sky; the umbrageous woods that cover the nearer

acclivities; the villages, hamlets, and isolated dwellings that infuse

life and activity into the picture; the herds of deer that are seen at

intervals through the trees; the distant channel with its shipping, and

the shining meanders of the river Arun--all present, in combination, one

of the most richly diversified landscapes on which the eye of poet or of

painter could love to expatiate.

To the readers of romance this scene is rendered doubly interesting by

its immediate vicinity to Pugh-dean, where the graves of <g>Bevis</g>, the

giant castellan of Arundel, and his horse Hirondelle, carry us back to

the days of King Arthur and his knights. To this personage we have

already adverted[42]; “but of his connexion with the Castle of Arundel,”

says Tierney, “it were difficult to trace the origin, although there can

be little doubt that it existed at a very early period. At the bottom of

the valley called Pugh-dean, the locality now under notice, is a low

oblong mound, resembling a raised grave in its form, and known in the

traditions of the neighbourhood as ‘Bevis’s burialplace.’ It is about

six feet wide, and not less than thirty feet long. It is accompanied by

several

[Illustration]

smaller but similar mounds; and although peculiar in its shape, as

compared with Roman and other tumuli which have been examined at

different times, has, nevertheless much of a sepulchral character in its

appearance. It was lately opened to a depth of several feet, but nothing

was discovered in it. In the middle, however, at the bottom to which the

ground was originally made to shelve from each end, a level space of

about six feet in length had been left, as if for the reception of a

deposit; and as the lightness of the soil above seemed to indicate that

it had been merely removed, it is not improbable that this deposit may

have rewarded some antiquary more fortunate than those who were engaged

in the late excavation.”

Not far from this retired valley a different interest is excited by its

having been the site of the chapel and hermitage of St. James--an

hospital for lepers, and built soon after the middle of the thirteenth

century, for the reception of the unhappy outcasts who were afflicted

with that loathsome malady. The clump of trees observed in the view

marks the locale of this ancient sanctuary, which must have enclosed a

very considerable area.

A pleasing incident in the history of Arundel, is the visit of the

<g>Empress Matilda</g> to her step-mother, Queen Adeliza, as already alluded to

in our notice of Albini. Accompanied by her natural-brother, Robert of

Gloucester, and a retinue of one hundred and forty knights, she was

received within the walls of the Castle, and treated with all the

distinction which her own dignity and the affection of her relative

could bestow. The news of her arrival, however, threw the army of <g>King

Stephen</g> into immediate motion, and brought the engines of war under the

walls of the Castle. Fearful of the consequences, Queen Adeliza

determined to try the effects of policy in lieu of force, and appealed

to the chivalrous feelings of the incensed Monarch, in behalf of her

illustrious but ill-timed visitor. She assured him that the only object

of her royal guest in making this visit, was to gratify those feelings

of love and relationship, which might be reasonably supposed to exist

between mother and daughter; that the gates of the Castle had been

thrown open to her, not as a rival to the throne, but as a peacefully

disposed visitor, who had a longing desire to see her native land, and

who was ready to depart whenever it should please the King to grant her

his safe-conduct to the nearest port. It was, moreover, delicately

insinuated, that to lay siege to a Castle, where the only commander of

the garrison was a lady, and where the only offence complained of was a

mere act of hospitality to a female relation, was surely an enterprise

neither worthy of a hero such as his Majesty, nor becoming in him who

was the crowned head of the English chivalry.

The result of this appeal, or of some more convincing argument[43], has

been already stated in the safe retirement of Matilda from the scene of

danger, and her return to Normandy. But a small <g>chamber</g> over the inner

gateway enjoys

[Illustration]

the traditionary fame of having been her sleeping room, during her

sojourn in the Castle. It is a low square apartment, such as the

castellan might have occupied during a siege. But, as an imperial

chamber, it never could have had more than one recommendation, namely

its security, in times when security was the chief object to be kept in

view; and six centuries ago it was no doubt a very eligible state

chamber. The <g>bedstead</g> on which the Empress is said to have reposed--for

we would not disturb any point of popular and poetical faith--is

certainly a relic of considerable antiquity. Its massive walnut posts

are elaborately carved, but so worm-eaten, that, unless tenderly

scrutinised, the wood would be apt to fall into powder in the hands of

the visitor. Looking upon this, as a relic of the twelfth century, it

may be imagined with what feelings the daughter of a King, the consort

of an Emperor, and mother of a King, laid her head upon that humble

couch, reflected on her checkered fate, and felt the shock of warlike

engines under the battlements.

“’Mid crash of states, exposed to fortune’s frown,

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

The other events and incidents which give Arundel particular distinction

among the ancient baronial seats of England, are partly owing to the

regal dignity of its visitors. It was here that Alfred and Harold are

believed to have resided; and it was in the castle of Arundel that

William Rufus, on his return from Normandy, celebrated the feast of

Easter.[44] In 1302, King Edward the First spent some time within its

walls: and from the fact of its containing an apartment familiarly known

as the ‘<g>King’s Chamber</g>,’ it is probable that, in later times, it was

often graced by the royal presence.[45] The luxury and splendour of its

apartments are amply attested by the minute inventories of the costly

materials employed in their decoration; while the princely revenues of

many of its lords permitted them to indulge in a style of hospitality to

which few subjects could aspire. It was frequented by the élite of our

English chivalry; beauty and valour were its hereditary inmates; its

court resounded to the strains of music; while military fêtes and

religious solemnities gave alternate life and interest to its halls.

Many a plan, afterwards developed in the field or the senate, was first

conceived and matured in the baronial fastness of Arundel. One of the

dark yet dramatic scenes of which it has been the theatre, is the

conspiracy, in which the Earls of Arundel, Derby, Marshall, and Warwick;

the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Abbot of St. Alban’s and the Prior of

Westminster, met the Duke of Gloucester, for the final ratification of

the plot. After receiving the sacrament, says the Chronicle, they

solemnly engaged, each for himself, and for one another, to seize the

person of King Richard the Second; his brothers, the Dukes of Lancaster

and York; and, finally, to cause all the lords of the King’s Council to

be ignominiously put to death. This plot, however, was happily divulged

in time to defeat its execution; and Arundel was brought to the block on

the evidence of his son-in-law, Earl Marshall, then deputy-governor of

Calais.[46]

So great, says Caraccioli, “was the hereditary fame of Arundel Castle,

and so high its prerogative, that Queen Adeliza’s brother, Joceline of

Lorraine, though a lineal descendant of Charlemagne, felt himself

honoured in being nominated to the title of its Castellan.” From William

de Albini, Joceline received in gift Petworth, with its large demesne;

and on his marriage with Agness, heiress of the Percies, took the name

of Percy--and, hence, probably, the origin of “<g>Percy’s Hall</g>,” an

apartment which has existed from time immemorial in Arundel Castle.

Of <g>Isabel</g> de Albini, the widow of Earl Hugh, the following anecdote is

preserved:[47]--Having applied to the King for the wardship of a certain

person, which she claimed as her right, and failing in her suit, she

addressed him in these spirited words:--“Constituted and appointed by

God for the just government of your people, you neither govern yourself

nor your subjects as you ought to do. You have wronged the Church,

oppressed the nobles, and to myself, personally, have refused an act of

justice, by withholding the right to which I am entitled.” “And have the

Barons,” said the King, “formed a charter, and appointed you their

advocate, fair dame?” “No,” replied the Countess; “but the <g>King</g> has

violated the charter of liberties given them by his father, and which he

himself solemnly engaged to observe; he has infringed the sound

principles of faith and honour; and I, although a woman, yet with all

the freeborn spirit of this realm, do here appeal against you to the

tribunal of God. Heaven and earth bear witness how injuriously you have

dealt with us, and the avenger of perjury will assert the justice of our

cause.” Conscious that the charge, though boldly spoken, was the voice

of public opinion, and struck with admiration of her frank spirit, the

King, stifling resentment, merely rejoined, “Do you wish for my favour,

kinswoman?” “What have I to hope from your favour,” she replied, “when

you have refused me that which is my right? I appeal to Heaven against

these evil counsellors, who, for their own private ends, have seduced

their liege lord from the paths of justice and truth.”

We now take a short retrospect of the public services, patriotic

achievements, and traits of personal character, which have distinguished

the thirty-two lords of Arundel from the period of the Conquest down to

our own times. Of several of these, however, our notice must be

exceedingly brief.--Of Roger Montgomery and his family we have little to

add beyond what has appeared in Mr. Tierney’s elaborate History of

Arundel, to which we have so often referred in the preceding pages. Of

William de Albini, the fourth earl, the following historical incident is

recorded:--When at length, after

[Illustration]

much fruitless warfare, Henry Plantagenet appeared in England at the

head of the nobles who espoused his rights, Albini had the happiness to

achieve what may be justly considered greater than any victory; he

prevented the effusion of blood. Henry’s army was then at Wallingford,

where Stephen, at the head of his forces, was arranging the line of

battle. The armies were drawn out in sight of each other; Stephen,

attended by Albini, was reconnoitring the position of his opponent; when

his charger becoming unmanageable, threw his rider[48]. He was again

mounted; but a second and a third time a similar accident occurred,

which did not fail to act as a dispiriting omen upon the minds of those

who were witnesses of the occurrence. Taking advantage of the

superstitious dread thus excited among the troops, Albini represented in

emphatic terms to Stephen the weakness of his cause when opposed by

right and justice, and how little he could calculate upon men whose

resolution in his service had been already shaken by the incident which

had just occurred. His counsel was taken in good part; Stephen and

Henry, adds the historian, met in front of the two armies: an

explanation ensued, reconciliation was effected; and in the course of

the year a solemn treaty was ratified, by which Stephen adopted the

young Plantagenet as his successor to the throne. The most important

affair in which Albini’s service was called for, was the splendid

embassy to Rome, the object of which was to counteract the effect of

à-Becket’s personal representations at the papal court. That mission

failed in effecting the reconciliation intended, owing to the

intemperate language of the prelates who were associated with Albini in

the cause. His own speech, as recorded by Grafton, is characteristic of

good sense and moderation:--“Although to me it is unknown, saith the

Erle of Arundell, which am but unlettered and ignorant, what it is that

these bishoppes here have sayde, (their speeches being in latin,)

neyther am I in that tongue able to expresse my minde as they have done;

yet, beyng sent and charged thereunto of my prince, neyther can, nor

ought I but to declare, as well as I may, what the cause is of our

sendyng hether; not to contende or strive with any person, nor to offer

any iniury or harm unto any man, especially in this place, and in the

presence here of such a one unto whose becke and authoritye all the

worlde doth stoope and yelde. But for this intent in our Legacy hether

directed, to present here before You and in the presence of the whole

Church of Rome, the devocion and loue of our king and master, which ever

he hath had and yet hath still toward You. And that the same may the

better appere to yr. Excellencie, hee hath assigned and appointed to the

furniture of this Legacy, not the least, but the greatest; not the

worst, but the best and chiefest of all his subiects; both

archbishoppes, bishoppes, erles, barons, with other potentates mo, of

such worthinesse and parentage, that if he could have found greater in

all his realme he would have sent them both for the reverence of Your

Person and of the Holy Church of Rome,” &c.

But this oration, “although it was liked for the softnesse and

moderation thereof, yet it failed of its object; it could not perswade

the bishop of Rome to condescende to their sute and request, which was

to have two legates or arbiters to be sent from him into England, to

examine and to take up the controversie betwene the kinge and the

archbishoppe.”