to entice back the young recluse to the gay world she had forsaken, but in vain.

LEGEND OF SPYE PARK.

Mrs. Crawford appends: Half-way up to Bowden Hill, and between Bowood and Lacock Abbey, stands Spye Park, the seat of the Bayntons, a family of great antiquity. In 1652, at the defeat of Sir William Waller by the Lord Wilmot, Bromham House, the former seat of the Bayntons, was burnt down, after which they removed to Spye Park. There is now in the Royal Museum a curious old pedigree, showing that the Bayntons, in the reign of Henry II., were Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. Sir Henry Baynton held the office of knight-marshal to the king, a place of great authority at that time; and his son, who was slain at Bretagne in the year 1201, was a noble Knight of Jerusalem. Sidney, in his Treatise on Government, mentions this family of 'great antiquity, and that in name and ancient possessions it equals most, if it is not far superior to many, of the nobility.' As all old mansions in the country must be associated with some portion of the superstitious and the wonderful, Spye Park was not without its share. There was a story told (and credited by the peasantry) of a knight, clad in armour, haunting one of the chambers-supposed to be the spirit of the gallant Sir Henry Baynton, who was beheaded at Berwick, in the time of Henry IV., for taking part with the rebel Earl of Northumberland. More modern spirits also were said to trouble

B

the indwellers of Spye Park; for old Lady Shrewsbury used to tell that old Sir Edward Baynton, the father of Sir Andrew, was continually seen at nightfall in the park and grounds, and that the latter had often (when in company. with his mistress) been startled by the apparition of his father. Sir Andrew, in early life, was remarkable for the possession of engaging and high moral qualities; but the misconduct of his first wife, to whom he was fondly attached, altered, it was said, his very nature; and to banish thought, he plunged into reckless libertinism. The circumstances were these: A gentleman of great personal attractions, and related to Lady Maria Baynton, arrived on a visit at the house. The wretched wife and mother forgot her twofold duty; and after many stolen meetings among the shades of Spye Park, she fled with her paramour. Sir Andrew was at first inconsolable, and, despite her shameless desertion of him, long lamented the mother of his child. Alas! that sinful mother and guilty wife was speedily visited by an awful retribution. Her infamous companion in guilt treated her with cruelty and brutality. Death at last put an end to her sufferings; and the young, the elegant, and accomplished Lady Maria, nurtured upon the bosom of indulgence, died in a low house, without a single friend or attendant to minister to her last wants, or a charitable hand to close her dying eyes.

THE LUMLEY PORTRAITS.

N Lumley Castle, in the village of Lumley,

Durham, built in the reign of Edward 1., the

entrance-hall contains full-length portraits of the Lumley family, commencing with Liulph, the Saxon progenitor of the family, and ending with his descendants, who lived in the reigns of Elizabeth and James 1. Mr. Planché, Rouge Croix, describes these pictures as evidently ancient, the greater number displaying the well-known and accurately-represented costumes of particular periods, ranging from the fourteenth to the seventeenth centuries. 'Until,' says Mr. Planché, 'I learned from the Rev. John Dodd that they had all been painted by order of Lord John Lumley, in the reign of Elizabeth or James I., I was perfectly ready to believe that each portrait was contemporary with the costume in which the figure was attired; for though, of course, Liulph the Saxon and the early Norman Lumleys could never have worn the dresses they were painted in, the pictures themselves might have been executed at the various periods when such dresses were worn, according to the invariable practice of medieval artists. Had this been

the case with these pictures, the hall of Lumley Castle would have presented us with the most curious and valuable series of family portraits that could perhaps be found in the world. But such is not the case.' Still they are a remarkable collection of imaginary portraits. Surtees, who wrote nearly fifty years ago, says of them: The collection of paintings at Lumley is dispersed; those only remain which are strictly family portraits. . . . In the great hall, besides a portrait of Liulph armed cap-à-pie, like a gallant knight' (in plate armour, with a helmet of the sixteenth century!), and bestriding his war-horse, are fifteen pictures of my lord's ancestors, with a pillar of his pedigree; all which are noted in the inventory of 1609, and then valued at £8. These, whether in robes or armour, are evidently fictitious or restored, and need no further notice. The most genuine and ancient piece Mr. Surtees considers to be: King Richard II., in the bloom of youth, and with bright auburn hair, sits on a chair of state in his royal robes -scarlet lined with ermine, his inner dress deep blue or purple, powdered over with golden R's, and crowned. He holds the sceptre in his left hand, and with his right gives a patent of nobility to Sir Ralph Lumley, who kneels before him in his baron's robes.' The frame bears the date 1384. This picture Mr. Planché considers a close imitation of the celebrated original portrait of Richard, preserved in the Jerusalem Chamber at Westminster. The figure of Sir Ralph Lumley is not authentic, since he was slain at Cirencester, in arms against Henry IV., in 1400, when he had

not attained the age of thirty-eight, and could scarcely even then have presented the portly and venerable appearance displayed in the picture.

Mr. Planché describes the portraits as representing the descendants of Liulph for fourteen generations, in various military or civil costumes, some exceedingly picturesque, and all bearing strong evidence to the fact that the robes and armour were painted from authorities of some description, and not from the fancy of the artists. They were executed about 1600, when various histories and chronicles were printed and published in Germany, Holland, and Flanders especially, illustrated by very spirited engravings representing the sovereigns and princes whose reigns or biographies were included in them. A great similarity exists in the styles of drawing and the character and costume of all these figures, the dress and armour of the earlier personages being invariably of the fifteenth century. Mr. Planché was therefore struck by the strong general resemblance the paintings at Lumley Castle bear to the aforesaid engravings.

We have not space for further details; but to add, that among the discrepancies should be noted the portrait of Theoderick the first Count of Holland, who lived in the ninth century, in armour and dress of the fifteenth century; his shield has on it an heraldic lion rampant, some 300 years before the earliest appearance of heraldic devices. Mr. Planché, in conclusion, considers the pictures to have been painted by Richard Stevens, a Dutchman,