Edward Barnett, a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams / or, The Earl's Victims: with an Account of the Terrible End of the Proud Earl De Montford, the Lamentable Fate of the Victim of His Passion, and the Shadow's Punishment

A NEGLECTED CHILD OF SOUTH CAROLINA, WHO ROSE TO BE A PEER OF GREAT BRITAIN,—AND THE STORMY LIFE OF HIS GRANDFATHER, CAPTAIN WILLIAMS,
WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE TERRIBLE END OF THE PROUD EARL DE MONTFORD, THE LAMENTABLE FATE OF THE VICTIM OF HIS PASSION,
Earl de Montford sat in a plainly furnished room in his stately mansion. Gorgeously decorated as were the other apartments of his princely residence, this apartment, with its plain business-look—its hard benches for such of the tenantry as came to him or his agent on business—its walls garnished with abstracts of the Game and Poor Law Enactments—its worn old chairs and heavy oak presses, the open doors of some of which disclosed bundles of old papers, parchments, etc.—this little room, the only one almost ever seen by any save the aristocracy and their followers—exercised and contained frequently more of human hope and fear than any other or the whole of the others of this sumptuous edifice. Here the toil-worn farmer came to pay his dues to the Lord of the Manor—here often too with beating heart and quivering lip, the old servant of the soil came to beg for time—time to enable him by hard pinching to make up his proportion of the sum spent in luxury by his landlord. Ah! reader! could those old walls reveal the sounds, the tales of human suffering, of heartless avarice, and callous indifference—of sneering assumption and hopeless woe, thy brain would be as fire, thy heart would sicken, and thy blood would boil, till rushing over every prudent thought, through grinding teeth and passion-paling lips would start, the one wild word, Revenge!
I have said the room was plainly furnished, but there was one exception—the chair in which the Earl sat. This was an old one, formerly the chair of state in which the old Barons his ancestors had presided at many a scene of wassail, with their retainers. It had been stuffed and new-covered to suit modern luxury, but the armorial bearings remained still carved in the wood of the high back, with the proud motto, Nulli Secundi, second to none.