The Leaguer of Lathom by W. Harrison Ainsworth

As he came in sight of the stronghold, he remarked with a stern smile to those near him:

“That house will never be taken by the rebels.”

Lathom House was certainly a magnificent pile, and so large that, according to an old poem, “within it could be lodged kyngys three.” It was also at Lathom House that a former Earl of Derby had dwelt in such state, that it was said by Camden, “that with his death the glory of English hospitality had fallen asleep.” Equal hospitality had likewise been exercised in the same lordly mansion by James Earl of Derby until the breaking out of the Civil War, when he had been obliged to fortify the house, and arm the greater part of his servants and retainers.

Nothing could be more striking and picturesque than the appearance of Lathom House, at the period of our story.

It was a vast embattled mansion, crowned with turrets, from the midst of which rose a lofty square tower, called the Eagle Tower. From the summit of this tower was displayed the proud banner of the Stanleys, bearing the loyal motto—SANS CHANGER.

Originally built in the reign of Henry the Seventh, Lathom House is said to have furnished that monarch with the design of Richmond Palace. Possessing a very grand and imposing exterior, it contained many noble apartments—an immense banqueting-hall, and a grand presence-chamber. Attached to it was a beautiful chapel. The outer court, which was of considerable extent, and contained large stables and other buildings intended for the garrison, was surrounded by strong battlemented walls, defended by nine towers, each provided with six large pieces of cannon—three placed to fire one way, and three the other. The walls were encompassed by an unusually wide and deep moat, the inner banks of which were defended by a row of stout palisades. The walls were strengthened internally by earthworks, two feet in thickness. The gatehouse was exceedingly lofty and strong, and its machicolated battlements and tall towers were furnished with ordnance; while the entrance was protected by a drawbridge and double portcullis.

“There is something particular and romantic in the situation of this house,” says Archdeacon Rutter, “as if nature herself had formed it for a stronghold, or place of security. The uncommon situation of it may be compared to the palm of a man’s hand, flat in the middle, and covered with a rising round about it, and so near to it, that the enemy in two years were never able to raise a battery against it so as to make a breach in the wall practicable to enter the house by way of storm.”

The ground on which Lathom House stood was a moorish tract but thoroughly drained by the moat. At a short distance from the mansion there was a park, and embosomed among the trees was Burscough Priory—a convent of Black Canons, founded by Robert Fitz-Henry, Lord of Lathom, in the reign of Richard the First.

Wherever it could be seen, this strong castellated mansion, with its great gatehouse, embattled walls, numerous turrets, and lofty central tower presented a most imposing appearance.

In the presence-chamber, and in a high-backed ebony chair, sat a majestic dame. She could not be called young, yet she was still exceedingly handsome, and possessed a full, stately figure. Her manner was dignified, and at times haughty, and her look showed she was accustomed to command. Her eyes were remarkably fine, of a dark hazel, fringed with long silken lashes, and arched over by finely pencilled brows. Her dark tresses were brought in small curls over her brow and flowed down in ringlets at the side and at the back, according to the then charming mode. She wore a collar of pearls, and large pearl ear-rings. Her gown was of black velvet, trimmed with lace, and her stomacher was adorned with pearls. In the peculiar grace of her manner, as in her speech, there was something that showed she was of French origin.

Need we say this was Charlotte de la Trémoille, Countess of Derby? From her charms and her ability, it is not wonderful that she held such sway over her noble husband.

With the countess were her three daughters, ranging from ten to thirteen—lovely creatures, dressed in white satin, and wearing their hair in the same becoming fashion as their mother. All three had fine bright eyes and charming features. The elder—the Lady Henriette Marie Stanley, to whom the queen had stood godmother, was tall, and possessed a slight graceful figure. When of tender age she had been contracted to Lord Molineux. Lady Katherine, the second daughter, was about a year younger than her sister, and equally beautiful. A blonde, with light blue eyes, fair tresses, a delicate complexion, she had a very gentle expression of countenance, and a very engaging manner.