To recite, once again, the majestic old story of the siege is not needful. Suffice it to say that in 1642, when James, the seventh Earl of Derby, whose steadfast loyalty so well fulfilled the family motto, _Sans changer_, was in the Isle of Man, approach was made to Lathom House with a view to capture by the Parliamentarians under Fairfax. The countess, originally Charlotte de Tremouille, a high-born lady whose kindred were connected with the blood-royal of France, replied to the summons to surrender that she had a double trust to sustain--faith to her lord the Earl, who had entrusted her with the safe keeping, and allegiance to her king--and that she was resolved not to swerve from either honour or obedience. The nature of the long defence, the discomfiture of the assailants, and what happened subsequently, constitutes, as well known, a chapter in the family history at once consummately noble and profoundly sorrowful. It reads more touchingly than any romance or tale of fancy, and would supply subjects for many a great picture. Plenty of memorials of the siege have been preserved. A little while ago, upon removal of a tree near the site of the original hall, numbers of bullets were found in the earth about the roots. Tradition also has plenty to say, and apparently with more truth than is sometimes the case. In the history of the siege, written shortly after its time, seven of the defenders are said to have lost their lives, and one of these, called on account of his great stature, Long Jan, is said to have owed his death-wound to his head rising above the wall or parapet. Very interesting was it, therefore, a few years since, when during some alterations in the level of the ground, there were discovered seven skeletons, one of them indicating a frame little less than gigantic. The bones, when uncovered, were seemingly perfect, but all soon crumbled away, and not a trace remained. Another circumstance mentioned in the old history of the siege is that supplies of coal were obtained by excavating in the courtyard. The Earl of Lathom was so fortunate, a year or two ago, as to personally prove the truthfulness of this statement by the discovery of an outcrop below the turf, just in front of the drawing-room windows of the modern mansion.