Henrietta Temple. A love story. By the author of 'Vivian Grey', &c

Book I. Chapter

I. GOlsE ACCOCNT OF TUE FAMILY OF ARMINE, AND ESPECIALLY OF SIR FERDINAND AND OF SIR RATCLIFFE. The family of Armine entered England with AVdliam the Norman Ralph D'Ermyn was standard-bearer of the Conqueror, and shared prodigally in the plunder, as appears by Doomsday Book. At the time of the general survey the family of Ermyn, or Armyn, possessed numerous manors in Nottinghamshire, and several in the shire of Lincoln. AVdliam D'Armyn, lord of the honour of Armyn, was one of the subscribing Barons to the Great Charter. His predecessor died in the Holy Land before Ascalon. A succession of stout barons and vaUant knights maintained the high fortunes of the famUy ; and in the course of the various struggles with France they obtained possession of several fair castles in Guienne and Gascony. In the wars of the Roses the Armyns sided with the house of Lancaster.

Ferdinand Armyn, who shared the exile of Henry the Seventh, was knighted on Bosworth Field, and soon after created Earl of Tewkes bury. Faithful to the Church, the second Lord Tewkesbury became involved in one of those numerous risings that harassed the last years of Henry the Eighth. The rebelUon was unsuccessful, Lord Tewkesbury was beheaded, his blood attainted, and his numerous estates forfeited to the Crown. A younger branch of the famdy, who had adopted Protestantism, married the daughter of Sir Francis Walsingham, and attracted, by his talents in negotiation, the notice of Queen EUzabeth. He was sent on a secret mission to the Low Countries, where, having greatly distinguished himself, he obtained on his return the restoration of the famdy estate of Armine, in Nottinghamshire, to which he retired after an eminently prosperous career, and amused the latter years of his life in the construction of a family mansion, budt in that national style of architecture since described by the name of his royal mistress, at once magnificent and convenient.

His son Sir Walsingham Armine figured in the first batch of baronets under James the First. During the memorable struggle between the Crown and the Commons, in the reign of the unhappy Charles, the Armine famdy became distinguished CavaUers. The second Sir Walsingham raised a troop of horse, and gained great credit by charging at the head of his regiment and defeating Sir Arthur Haselrigg's Cuiras siers. It was the first time that that impenetrable band had been taught to fly ; but the conqueror was covered with wounds. The same Sir Walsingham also successfully defended Armine House against the Commons, and commanded the cavalry at the battle of Newbury, where two of his brothers were slain. For these various services and sufferings Sir Walsingham was advanced to the dignity ofa baron of the realm, by the title of Lord Armine, of Armine, in the county of Nottingham.

He died without issue, but the baro netcy devolved on his youngest brother, Sir Ferdinando. The Armine family, who had relapsed into popery, foUowed the fortunes of the second James, and the head of the house died at St. Germains. His son, however, had been prudent enough to remain in England and support the new dynasty, by which means he contrived to secure his title and estates. Roman Catholics, how ever, the Armines always remained, and this circumstance accounts for this once-distinguished famdy no longer figuring in the history of their country. As far, therefore, as the house of Armine was concerned, time flew during the next century with immemorable wing. The family led a secluded Use on their estate, intermarrying only with the great Catholic famiUes, and duly begetting baronets. At length arose, in the person of the last Sir Ferdinand Armine, one of those extraordinary and rarely gifted beings who require only an opportunity to influence the fortunes of their nation, and to figure as a Cæsar or an Alcibiades.

Beautiful, briUiant, and am bitious, the young and restless Armine quitted, in his eighteenth year, the house of his fathers, and his stepdame of a country, and entered the Imperial service. His blood and creed gained him a flatteringreception ; his skill and valour soon made him distin guished. The world rang with stories of his romantic bravery, his gaUantries, his eccentric manners, and his pohtical intrigues, for he nearly contrived to be elected King of Poland. Whether it were disgust at being foded in this high object by the influence of Aus tria, or whether, as was much whispered at the time, he had dared to urge his insolent and unsuccessful suit on a stdl more delicate subject to the Empress Queen herself, certain it is that Sir Fer dinand suddenly quitted the Imperial service, and appeared at Con stantinople in person.

The man, whom a point of honour prevented from becoming a Protestant in his native country, had no scruples about his profession of faith at Stamboul : certain it is that the English baronet soon rose high in the favour of the Sultan, assumed the Turkish dress, conformed to the Turkish customs, and finally, led against Austria a division of the Turkish army. Having gratified his pique by defeating the Imperial forces in a sanguinary engagement, and obtaining a favourable peace for the Porte, Sir Ferdinand Armine doffed his turban, and suddenly reappeared in his native country. After the sketch we have given of the last ten years of his life, it is unnecessary to observe that Sir Ferdinand Armine immediately became what is called extremely fashionable ; and, as he was now in Protestant England, the emphe of fashion was the only one in which the young CathoUc could distinguish him self.

Let us then charitably set down to the score of his political «abdities the fantastic dissipation and the frantic prodigality in ich the liveliness of his imagination and the energy of his soul exhausted themselves. After three startling years he married the Lady Barbara RatcUffe, whose previous divorce from her husband, the Earl of Faulconville, Sir Ferdinand had occasioned. He was, however, separated from his lady during the first year of their more hallowed union, and, retiring to Rome, Sir Ferdinand became apparently very devout. At the end of a year he offered to transfer the whole of his property to the Church, provided the Pope would aUow him an annuity and make him a cardinal. His Holiness not deeming it fit to consent to the proposition, Sir Ferdinand quitted his capital in a huff, and, returning to England, laid claim to the peerages of Tewkesbury and Armine.

Although assured of fading in these claims, aud himself perhaps as certain of iU success as his lawyers, Sh Ferdinand nevertheless expended upwards of £60,000 in their promotion, and was amply repaid for the expenditure in the gratification of his vanity by keeping his name before the public. He was never content except when he was astonishing mankind; and wliile he was apparently exerting all his efforts to become a King of Poland, a Roman cardinal, or an English peer, the crown, the coronet, and the scarlet hat were in truth ever secondary points with him, compared to the sensation throughout Europe which the effort was contrived and calculated to ensure. On his second return to his native country Sir Ferdinand had not re-entered society. For such a man, society, with all its super ficial excitement, and aU the shadowy variety with which it attempts to cloud the essential monotony of its nature, was intolerably duU and commonplace.

Sh Ferdinand, on the contrary, shut himself up in Armine, having previously announced to the world that he was going to write his memoirs. This history, the construction of a castle, and the prosecution of his claims before the House of Lords, apparently occupied his time to Ids satisfaction, for he remained. quiet for several years, untd, on the breaking out of the French Revolution, he hastened to Paris, became a member of the Jacobin Club, and of the National Convention. The name of Citizen Armine appears among the regicides. Perhaps in this vote he avenged the loss of the crown of Poland, and the stiU more mor tifying repulse he may have received from the mother of Marie Antoinette. After the execution of the royal victims, however, it was discovered that Citizen Armine had made them an offer to save their Uves and raise an insurrection in La Vendee, provided he was made Lieutenant-general of the kingdom.

At his trial, which, from the nature of the accusation and the character of the accused, occasioned to his gratification a great sensation, he made no effort to defend himself, but seemed to glory in the chivahic crime. He was hurried to the guiUotine and met his fate with the greatest composing assuring the pubUc with a mysterious air, that had he lived foui and-twenty hours longer everything would have been arranged, and the troubles which he foresaw impending for Europe prevented. So successfully had Armine played his part, that Ids mysterious and doubtful career occasioned a controversy, from which only the appearance of Napoleon distracted universal attention, and which, indeed, only wholly ceased within these few years. What were his intentions ? Was he or was he not a sincere Jacobin ?

If he made the offer to the royal famdy, why did he vote for their death ? Was he resolved, at all events, to be at the head of one of the parties ? A middle course would not suit such a man ; and so on. Intermin able were the queries and theh solutions, the pamphlets and the memoirs, which the conduct of this vain man occasioned, and which must assuredly have appeased his manes. Recently it has been dis covered that the charge brought against Armine was perfectly false and purely malicious. Its victim, however, could not resist the dazzling celebrity of the imaginary crime, and he preferred the reputation of closing his career by conduct which at once perplexed and astonished mankind, to a vindication which would have deprived his name of some brilliant accessories, and spared him to a hfe of which he was perhaps wearied.

By the unhappy victim of his vanity and passion Sh Ferdinand Armine left one chdd, a son, whom he had never seen, now Sir RatcUffe. Brought up in sadness and in seclusion, education had faithfully developed the characteristics of a reserved and melancholy mind. Pride of Uneage and sentiments of religion, which even in early youth darkened into bigotry, were not incompatible with strong affections, a stern sense of duty, and a sphit of chivahic honour. Limited in capacity, he was, however, firm in purpose. Trembling at the name of his father, and devoted to the unhappy parent whose presence he had scarcely ever quitted, a word of reproach had never escaped his Ups against the chieftain of his blood, and one, too, whose career, how Uttle soever his child could sympathise with it, stiU maintained, in men's mouths and minds, the name and memory of the house of Armine.

At the death of his father Sir Ratcliffe had just attained his majority, and he succeeded to immense estates encumbered with mortgages, and to considerable debts, which his feehngs of honour would have eompeUed him to discharge, had they indeed, been enforced by no other claim. The estates of the family on their restoration, had not been entailed ; but, until Sir Ferdinand, no head of the house had abused the confidence of his ancestors, and the vast possessions of the house of Armine had descended unim paired : aud unimpaired, so far as he was concerned, Sir Ratcliffe determined they should remain. Although, by the sale of the estates, not only the encumbrances and liabiUties might have been discharged, but himself left in possession of a moderate independence, Sir Rat cliffe at once resolved to part with nothing.

Fresh sums were raised for the payment of the debts, and the mortgages now con sumed nearly the whole rental of the lauds on which they were secured. Sir RatcUffe obtained for himself only an annuity of three hundred per annum, which he presented to his mother, in addition to the smaU portion which she had received on her first marriage ; and for himself, visiting Armine Place for the first time, he roamed for a few days with sad complacency about that magnificent demesne, and then, taking down from the waUs of the magnificent hall the sabre with which his father had defeated the Imperial host, he embarked for Cadiz, and very shortly after his arrival obtained a commission in the Spanish service. Although the hereditary valour of the Armines had descended to theh forlorn representative, it is not probable that, under any circumstances, Sh Ratcliffe would have risen to any particular emi nence in the country of Ids temporary adoption.

His was not one of those minds born to command and to create ; and his temper was too proud to serve and to solicit. His residence in Spain, however, was not altogether without satisfaction. It was during this sojourn that he gained the Uttle knowledge of life and human nature he possessed ; and the creed and solemn manners of the land harmonised with his faith and habits. Among these strangers, too, the proud young Englishman felt not so keenly the degradation of his house ; and sometimes— though his was not the fatal gift of imagination— sometimes he indulged in day dreams of its rise. Unpractised in business, and not gifted with that intuitive quickness which supplies experience and often baffles it, Ratcliffe Armine, who had not quitted the domestic hearth even for the purposes of education, was yet fortunate enough to possess a devoted friend ; and this was Glastonbury, his tutor, aud confessor to his mother.

It was to him that Sir Ratcliffe intrusted the management of his affairs, with a confidence which was deserved ; for Glastonbury sympathised with all his feelings, and was so wrapped up in the glory of the family, that he had no greater ambition in life than to become their historio grapher, and had been for years employed in amassing materials for a great work dedicated to their celebrity. AVhen Ratcliffe Armine had been absent about three years his mother died. Her death was unexpected. She had not fulfiUed two-thirds of the allotted period of the Psalmist, and in spite of many sorrows she was still beautiful. Glastonbury, who communi cated to him the intelligence in a letter, in which he vainly attempted to suppress Ids own overwhelming affliction, counselled his immediate return to England, if but for a season ; and the unhappy Rat cliffe followed Ms advice.

By the death of his motlier Sir Ratcliffe Armine became possessed, for the first time, of a very small but stdl an independent income ; and having paid a visit, soon after his return to Iris native country, to a Catholic nobleman to whom his acquaintance had been of some use when traveUing in Span*, he became enamoured of one of his daughters, and his passion being returned, and not disapproved by the father, he was soon after married to Constance, the eldest daughter of Lord Grandison. CHAPTER H. ARMINE DESCRIBED. After his marriage Sh Ratcliffe determined to reside at Armine. In one of the largest parks in England there yet remained a fragment of a vast EUzabethan pUe, that in old days bore the name of Armine Place. AVhen Sh Ferdinand had commenced buUdino- Armine Castle, he had pulled down the old mansion, partly for the sake of its site and partly for the sake of its materials.

Long lines of turreted and many-windowed waUs, tad towers, and lofty arches, now rose in picturesque confusion on the green ascent where heretofore old Sir Walsingham had raised the fair and convenient dweUing, which he justly deemed might have served the purpose of a long posterity. The hall and chief staircase of the castle and a gallery alone were finished; and many a day had Sir Ferdinand passed in arranging the pictures, the armour, and choice rarities of these magnificent apartments. The rest of the budding was a mere sheU : nor was it in aU parts even roofed in. Heaps of bricks and stone and pUes of timber appeared in every direction ; and traces of the sudden stoppage of a great work might be observed in the temporary saw-pits stdl remaining, tho sheds for the workmen, and the kilns and furnaces, which never had been removed.

Time, however, that had stained the neglected towers with an antique tint, and had permitted many a generation of summer birds to build their sunny nests on all the coignes of vantage of the unfinished waUs, had exercised a meUowing influence even on these rude accessories, and in the course of years they had been so drenched by the rain, and so buffeted by the wind, and had become so covered with moss and ivy, that they rather added to than detracted from the picturesque character of the whole mass. A few hundred yards from the castle, but situate on the same verdant rising ground, and commanding, although weU sheltered, an extensive view over the wide park, was the fragment of the old Place that we have noticed. The rough and undulating rent which marked the severance of the building was now thickly covered with ivy, which in its gamesome luxuriance had contrived also to chmb up a remaining stack of tall chimneys, and to spread over the covering of the large oriel window.

This fragment contained a set of very pleasant chambers, which, having been occupied by the late baronet, were of course furnished with great taste and comfort; and there was, moreover, accommodation sufficient for a smaU establishment. Ai-mine Place, before Sir Ferdinand, unfortunately for his descendants, determined in the eighteenth century on building ci feudal castle, had been situate in very famous pleasure-grounds, which extended at the back of the mansion over a space of some hundred acres. The grounds in the immediate vicinity of the buddings had of course suffered severely, but the far greater portion had only been neglected ; and there were some indeed who deemed, as they wandered through the arbour-walks of this enchanting wilderness, that its beauty had been enhanced even by this very neglect.

It seemed like a forest in a beautiful romance ; a green and bowery wilderness where Boccaccio would have loved to woo, and Watteau to paint. So artfully had the walks been planned, that they seemed interminable, nor was there a single point in the whole pleasaunce where the keenest eye could have detected a Umit. Sometimes you wandered in those arched and winding walks dear to pensive spirits ; sometimes you emerged on a plot of turf blazing in the sunshine, a smaU and bright savannah, and gazed with wonder on the group of black and mighty cedars that rose from its centre, with their sharp and spreading foliage. The beautifid and the vast blended together ; and the moment after you had beheld with delight a bed of geraniums or of myrtles, you found yourself in an amphitheatre of Italian pines.

A strange exotic perfume fiUedthe ah : you trod on the flowers of other lands ; and shrubs and plants, that usually are only trusted from their conservatories, Uke sultanas from theh jealousies, to sniff the air and recal theh bloom, here learning from hardship the philosophy of endurance, had struggled successfully even against northern winters, and wantoned now in native and unpruned luxuriance. Sir Ferdinand, when he resided at Armine, was accustomed to fill these pleasure-grounds with macaws and other birds of gorgeous plumage; but these had fled away with their master, all but some swans which stdl floated on the surface of an artificial lake, narrow, but of great and unswerving length, and which marked the centre of this paradise. In the remains of the ancient seat of his fathers Sh Ratcliffe Armine and his bride now sought a home.

The principal chamber of Armine Place was a large irregular room, with a low but richly carved oaken roof, studded with achievements. This apartment was lighted by the oriel window we have mentioned, the upper panes of which contained some very ancient specimens of painted glass, and having been fitted up by Sh Ferdinand as a library, contained a collection of valuable books. From the Ubrary you entered through an arched door of painted glass into a smaU room, of which, it being much out of repah when the famdy arrived, Lady Armine had seized the opportunity of gratifying her taste in the adornment. She had hung it with some old-fashioned pea green damask, that exhibited to advantage several copies of Spanish paintings by herself, for her ladyship was a very skilful artist. The third and remaining chamber was the dining-room, a somewhat gloomy chamber, being shadowed by a neighbouring chestnut.

A portrait of Sir Ferdinand, when a youth, in a Venetian dress, was suspended over the old-fashioned fireplace; and opposite hung a fine hunting piece by Schneiders. Lady Armine was a very amiable and accomphshed woman. She had enjoyed the advantage of a foreign education under the inspection of a cautious parent ; and a residence on the Continent, whde it had afforded her many graces, had not, as unfortunately sometimes is the case, divested her of those more substantial though less showy qualities of which a husband knows the value. She was pious and dutiful: her manners were graceful, for she had visited courts and mixed in the most polished circles, but she had fortunately not learnt to affect insensibdity as a system, or to believe that the essence of good breeding consists in showing your feUow-creatures that you despise them.

Her cheerful temper solaced the constitutional gloom of Sh Ratcliffe, and indeed had originaUy won his heart, even more than her remarkable beauty; and whde at the same time she loved a country Use, she possessed in a lettered taste, in a beautiful and highly cultivated voice, and in a scientific knowledge of music and of painting, all those resources which prevent rethement degenerating into lonehness. Her foibles, if we must confess that she was not faultless, endeared her to her husband, for her temper reflected his own pride, and she possessed the taste for splendour which was also his native mood, although circumstances had eom peUed him to stifle its gratification. Love, pure and profound, had alone prompted the union between Ratcliffe Armine and Constance Grandison. Doubtless, like aU of her race, she might have chosen amid the wealthiest of the Catholic nobles and gentry one who would have been proud to have mingled his life with hers ; but, with a soul not insensible to the splendid accidents of existence, she yielded her heart to one who could repay the rich sacrifice only with devotion.

His poverty, his pride, his dangerous and hereditary gift of beauty, his mournful Use, his illustrious Uneage, his reserved and romantic mind, had at once attracted her fancy and captivated her heart. She shared all his aspirations and sympathised with all his hopes ; and the old glory of the house of Armine, and its revival and restoration, were the object of her dady thoughts, and often of her nightly dreams. With these feelings Lady Armine settled herself at her new home scarcely with a pang that the whole of the park in which she lived was let out as grazing ground, and only trusting, as she beheld the groups of ruminating cattle, that the day might yet come for the antlered tenants of the bowers to resume their shady dwelhngs. The good man and his wife who hitherto had inhabited the old Place, and shown the castle and the pleasaunce to passing traveUers, were, under the new order of affairs, promoted to the respective offices of serving-man and cook, or butler aud housekeeper, as they styled themselves in the viUage.

A maiden brought from Grandison to wait on Lady Armine completed the estabUshment, with her young brother, who, among numerous duties, performed the office of groom, and attended to a pah of beautiful white ponies which Sh Ratcliffe drove in a phaeton. This equipage, which was remarkable for its elegance, was the especial delight of Lady Armine, and certainly the only piece of splendour in which Sh Ratcliffe indulo-ed. As for neighbourhood, Sir RatcUffe, on his arrival, of course received a visit from the rector of his parish, and, by the courteous medium of this gentleman, he soon occasioned it to be o-enerally understood that he was not anxious that the example of his rector should be foUowed. The intimation, in spite of much curiosity, was of course respected. Nobody called upon theArmines.

This happy couple, however, were too much engrossed with theh own society to requhe amusement from any other sources than themselves. The honeymoon was passed in wandering in the plea sure-grounds, and in wondering at their own marvellous happiness. Then Lady Armine would sit on a green bank and sing her choicest songs, and Sir RatcUffe repaid her for her kindness by speeches softer even than serenades. The arrangement of their dwelling occupied the second month : each day witnessed some felicitous yet economical alteration of her creative taste. The thhd month Lady Armine determined to make a garden. " I wish," said her affectionate husband, as he toiled with delight in her service ; " I wish, my dear Constance, that Glastonbury was here ; he was such a capital gardener." " Let us ask him, dear RatcUffe ; and, perhaps, for such a friend we have already allowed too great a space of time to elapse without sending an invitation/' " Why, we are so happy," said Sir RatcUffe, smuing ; " and yet Glastonbury is the best creature in the world.

I hope you whi hke him, dear Constance." " I am sure I shall, dear Ratcliffe. Give me that geranium, love. AVrite to him to-day ; write to Glastonbury to-day."

Chapter III. Arrival Of Glastonbury

Adman Glastoneury was a younger son of an old but decayed English family. He had been educated at a college of Jesuits in France, and had entered at an early period of life the service of the Romish Church, whose communion his family had never quitted. At college young Glastonbury had been alike distinguished for his assiduous talents and for the extreme benevolence of his di .position. His was one of those minds to which refinement is natural, and which learning and experience never deprive of simplicity. Appa rently his passions were not violent ; perhaps they were restrained by his profound piety. Next to his devotion, Glastonbury was most remarkable for his taste. The magnificent temples in which the mysteries of the Deity and saints he worshipped were celebrated, developed the latent predisposition for the beautiful, which became almost the master sentiment of his life.

In the inspired and inspiring paintings that crowned the altars of the churches and the cathedrals in which he ministered, Glastonbury first studied art ; and it was as he glided along the solemn shade of those Gothic aisles, gazing on the brave groining of the vaulted roofs, whose deep aud sublime shadows so beautifully contrasted with the sparkling shrines and the delicate chantries below, that he first imbibed that passion for the architecture of the middle ages that afterwards led him on many a pleasant pilgrimage, with no better companions than a wallet and a sketch-book. Indeed so very sensible was Glastonbury of the influence of the early and constant scene of his youth on his imagination, that he was wont to trace his love of heraldry, of which he possessed a remarkable knowledge, to the emblazoned windows that perpetuated the memory and the achievements of many a pious founder.

When Glastonbury was about twenty-one years of age, he unexpectedly inherited from an uncle a sum which, though by no means considerable, was for him a sufficient independence ; and as no opening in the service of the Church at this moment offered itself, which he considered it a duty to pursue, he determined to gratify that restless feeling which seems inseparable from the youth of men gifted with fine sensibUities, and which probably arises in an unconscious desire to quit the common-place and to discover the ideal. He wandered on foot throughout the whole of Switzerland and Italy; and, after more than three years' absence, returned to England with several thousand sketches, and a complete Alpine Hortus Siccus. He was even more proud of the latter than of having kissed the Pope's toe. In the next seven years the life of Glastonbury was nearly equally divided between the duties of his sacred profession and the gratification of his simple and elegant tfastes. » He resided principaUy in Lancashire, where he became hbrarian to a CathoUc nobleman of the highest rank, whose notice he had first attracted by publishing a description of his grace's residence, dlustrated by his drawings.

The duke, who was a man of fine taste and antiquarian pursuits, and an exceedingly benevolent person, sought Glastonbury's acquaintance in consequence of the publication, and from that moment a close and cherished intimacy subsisted between them. In the absence of the family, however, Glastonbury found time for many excursions ; by means of which he at last completed drawings of all our cathedrals. There remained for him still the abbeys and the minsters of the AVest of England, a subject on wiiich he was ever very eloquent. Glastonbury performed all these excursions on foot, armed only with an ashen staff which he had cut in bis early travels, and respecting which he was very superstitious ; so that he would have no more thought of journeying without this stick than most other people without their hat.

Lideed, to speak truth, Glastonbury has been known to quit a house occasionally without that necessary appendage, for, from lining much alone, he was not a little absent ; but instead of piquing himself on such eccentricities, they ever occasioned him mortification. Yet Glastonbury was an universal favourite, and ever a welcome guest. In his journeys he had no want of hosts ; for there was not a Catholic family which would not have been hurt had he passed them without a visit. He was indeed a rarely accompUshed personage. An admirable scholar aud profound antiquary, he possessed also a considerable practical knowledge of the less severe science.-', was a line artist, and no contemptible musician. His pen, too, was that of a ready writer ;— if his sonnets be ever pubUshed, they wdl rank among the finest in our literature.