.^ 1^ ^vfCAllFOff^ ^^\^[U(JlV[By/^ ^losAfCEifj-;^ ^>'.:,. ^J^UDNYSOl^ %a]AlNil3WV^ ,^W[UNIVEBJ/A o 5(. _^lOSA'JCflfXy. <^tHBRARY6K ^tUBRARYO^ ^5M[ UNIVERy/^ ^ ^lOSvWCflfj-^ vvlOSANCElfj->, ■^/sajAiNniW^ %oimi^'^ %oimiQ^ ■^/saJAiNinvN^ ^OAavaan# >&Aavaani^ - --5 o .^MEUMVERJ/a o <^^IIIBRARYG< <^111BRARYQ< ^lOSMEl£r^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^-;;0FCA1IF0)?^ ^(^laoNvsoi^ %a3AiNn3'n'"^ '^Aavaani'^^ ^(?Aavaani<^ .^ttEUNIVERJ/A «5 o .^MEUNIVFRSy/, ^vV^iOSANCElfj-^. & 5 o %aiAiNn3ftV^ ^ ^vlOSANCEl% ^tllBRARYO/^ ^^NHIBRARYO/v ^OFCAlIFOff^ ^OFCAIIFOR^ .^WEUfJIVERr/A <: ^lOSANCEl^ ^^WFUNIVEB% ^lOSAVCElfj-^ ^ ■^/sajAiNfljttV^ "^^^Aavaan-^"^ '^OAavaaii-i"^^ "^iJiiDsv-soi^ ^Aa3AiN(i-3W^^ ''^OAavaaiii^^ '^''o'y ^V^lUBRARYQ^^ ^^t- \oiimiQ'^ \{ ^OfCAllFOfiV <^QF ^ ^lllBRARYOc^ '"'^ '^^JllVDJO'^ O ^uf CAIIFORij. .■^MEl'NIVERtol, yVLUJ rtlllillCJy. v>:VOSANCElfj-;> w,iUBRARYO/>, ^■OllDhYSOl^ '^a3AIN,T3ft^^ «>^lUBRAfiYQ/^ ^OFCAIIFOR^ 30 ^OFCALIFOff^ AWEUS'lVERy/A i i^i tei i\fS)i i\1S)| mi K ♦. %JI1V3J0'^ C? v^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^OFCAllFOff^ AWEUNIVERJ//, ^OAOvagiH^"^ "^6>A!ivaaniS^ ^riijohvsoi''^ %a3AiNn3i^^ ^OFCMIFOftil^ ^OFCAllFOff^ >OAavaaii^'^ >&Aavaan-i^ I ,^ME•UNIVERS■//, ' 5. £3. O O AWUNIVER% ^10SA»)CE1% <^J^fllBRARY(?/r ^JvIllBRARYO/^ "^/jajMNiijiw^ ^oam-iQ'^ ,H;OFCAIIFO% 2_ C5 "^oAavaani^^ ^aOJIlVDJO'^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^ O > =3 %a3AiNn-3rtv^ 5> '^j. ^HIBRARYQ/r ^UIBRARYQc. ^.!/0JllV3 JO"*^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^CAavaaii-^ ^&Aavaan-^'^ >&Aavaaiv^'^ \WEUNIVERJ//, ^VlOSA)JCElfj> .vlOSANCElfx> bo ^rjlJDNVSOl^ -< '^Aa3AlNfl]V\"V^ ^^IIIBRARYQ^;^ ^>JvtlIBRARYQ/;^ C5 ^ o ^lllBRARYQc^ ^iOJlWDJO'^ clOSANCEltA>. ^>;,OFCA1IFO% 1'!^! I\©i ^^^ te IMDI ^OFCAlIF0ff,<>^ >- .^\\E•Ll^'lVEF I' DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OP VARIOUS PALACES S^c, Sfc, S^c, London : Printed hj R. Edward,, Crane Court, fleet Street, DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF VAKIOUS PALACES, AND PUBLIC BUILDINGS, ..... WITH BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF THEIR FOUNDERS OR BUILDERS, AND OTHER EMINENT PERSONS. ^-'- BY JAMES NORRIS BREWER. LONDON : PEINTED FOR W. H. AVYATT, PICKET STREET, TEMPLE BAR. 1810. AHTS IK NA DEDICATION. TO - GENERAL J. LEVESON GOWER, BILL-HILL, BERKSHIRE. Sir, xXS the following pages were written in the immediate neighborhood of your family seat, there appears a natural propriety in my wishing to address my volume to your notice. Many writers assert, that it is impossible to produce any thing new in the form of a dedication. I really believe that they are mistaken, and that simple unadorned truth, is a perfect novelty in this species of composition. And would it not be equally new, if plain and unvarnished truth, attracted the admiration of the world ? The prejudices and passions of mankind, demand mental aliment, of a more highly-seasoned description. VI DEDICATION. Might I be allowed to expatiate on the materials which truth supplies, I should find sufficient subject for genuine unmixed encomium. I might talk of mihtary excellence; of strength of judgment; and (which is more closely connected with my present undertaking) of the correctness of taste, shown in the alterations effected in your country seat, and its dependencies. On these heads I forbear; but allow me. Sir, thus pub- licly to offer you the sincere commendation of an obscure neighbor, in re- gard to the good taste you exhibit, by deriving your chief private enjoy- ments from the fulfilment of the duties of husband, father, and benefactor, — while the elevated and affluent, are so frequently seen corrupting the world by extravagance, or wounding it by inhumanity. T have the honor to be. With high respect, Sir, Your most obedient, humble Servant, James Norris Brewer. Hurst, Berks, February, 1810. PREFACE AT appears that few circumstances of discussion can be more interesting than an analysis of eminent buildings ; especially, if the examiner, at the same time, direct his attention to the history and fortunes of those peisons who are connected with each structure that comes under consideration. The temper, the genius, the pursuits of an historical era stand delineated in the features of remarkable edifices. And yet it is believed that no work, either English or foreign, professing to treat of great public buildings, or of superb private mansions, goes beyond a mere cursory account of their prominent and obvious characteristics. Impressed with these convictions, the present writer had long intended to attempt a work on a similar principle with that now submitted to the public, when he was enabled to profit by a fortunate opportunity in regard to the furtherance of his design. The plates contained in the present volume were executed for a work which it was judged expedient by the proprietors to lay aside in so early a stage, that the engravings may be said, with a very small license of expression, to have been consigned to oblivion. The author hopes that he shall not be deemed too partial when he ventures to assert that they deserved a more favorable destiny. As it was the great object and ambition of the writer to render his work a desirable appendage to the library of the man of rank, while it might prove a subject of interest to the general reader, he has avoided abstruse and laborious dissertations on architecture as an art ; confining his remarks to such points as involved matters of general taste, or were united « ith some peculiarity of national manners. AVhere circumstances admitted, he has endeavored to enter largely on biographical disqui- Vin PREFACE. sition, convinced that an account of the founder would frequently tend to elucidate the character and purposes of a splendid palace ; and confidently presuniing that no man can possibly contemplate the impressive features of an august edifice, without experiencing curiosity concerning those who first tenanted the structure, or who formed the plan, and raised the building, as a monument of private grandeur or of public spirit; In the proposals submitted to the public, it was observed that six numbers would form a volume, and would complete the work, unless the encouragement received should be sufficient to induce a continuation, comprehending every public building or palace worthy of observation, and consonant to the plan of the work. It is the anxious wish of the author to proceed. Many buildings of high interest occur as worthy of selection : — edifices calculated to convey a correct idea of the genius and taste of various nations and ages. It remains with the public to determine whether it be desirable to investigate and illustrate these structures, in the manner adopted in the present volume. Should public patronage favor a continuation of the work, not any labor or ex[)ense shall be wanting, to.render a succeeding volume deserving of notice. Hurst, Berk*, March I at, 1810. *^* The Author regrets that several typographiial errors have arisen, in comequeme of the distance at n-hich he resides from the Press. One mistake ?5 so injurious to the seme that it demands especial notice: — at page 12, line 9, the Duke of Somerset is said to have resided at his Palace in the Strand, in the year 1553. In the Julhors MS. the date stood 1550: — thus, it is entirely owing to the inadvertence of the Printer that the work is made apparently to assert that the Duke of Somerset resided in this Strand-mansion, a twelvemonth after the period at which he is known to have undergone decapitation. i DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL ACCOUNT SOMERSET-HOUSE. H/VERY European State can boast its palaces and pavilions, the seats of regal splendor, and national munificence. In tliis respect, the East may vie with the more favored territories westward; while, in every variation of clime, the mansions of polite or warlike Nobles emulate the grandeur even of regal splendour. To England appertains a boast, perhaps still more gratifying — a costly and immense public Building, in which art and science, on one hand, hold their court ; while the chief official resorts, connected with the routine of general business, are concentrated on the other. The increase of commerce, and the correspondent exaltation of the arts, had long suggested to many men of power and discernment, the propriety of such an edifice. The course of those various interchanges, to which property is so peculiarly subject in a commercial country, had vested in the Crown the possession of the site on which the palace of die Protector Somerset formerly stood. Time had reduced that once splendid building to a mere fragmentary, and useless memorial of departed greatness. The wish of the Monarch moved in unison with the exigencies of the public ; and the spot, once decorated Avith the proud and massive turrets of Somerset's Strand residence, was allotted to the service of the aits, and tlie gratification of na- tional ambition. B. 2 SOMERSr/r-llOUSK. In every point, this spot was admirably adapted to those purposes. That part of the Strand on which Somerset-House stands, may be nearly denominated central, in regard to the various offices which tlic Building combines. The adjacency of the Thames must bo considered a prominent advantage, as relating both to the utility anil beauty of the structure; while the very extensive character of the Protector's buildings, and the spaciousness of the gardens which a|)pertaincd to iiis mansion, aft'orded ample room for every architectural effort that splendor or convenience might suggest. It was in the year 1774, that an Act of Parliament was obtained for embanking tlie Kivcr Thames before Somerset-Place, and for building on the ground thereof various specified public offices. The liberal countenance bestowed by the Sovereign on the late Master of the 13oard of Works, Sir A\'illiam Chambers, readily accounts for the nomination of that architect to the superintendence of the projected edifice. After a design of Sir William's, the building was begun ; and, though never entirely completed, it must certainly be allowed, in many respects, to redound to the credit of his taste and ingenuity. Somerset-House occupies a space of five hundred feet in depth, and nearly eight hundred in width. This astonishing extension of site is distributed into a quadran- gular court, three hundred and forty feet long, and two hundred and ten Mide, with a street on each side, lying parallel w ith the court, four hundred feet in length, and sixty in breadth, leading to a terrace (fifty feet in width) on the banks of the Tliames. The terrace is raised fifty feet above the bed of the river, and occupies the entire length of tlie building. It is to be regretted that the streets on the sides are still in an unfinished state. The Strand-front of the building is no more than one hundred and thirty-five feet long. In so small a compass, no exalted flights of fancy were to be expected from tlie artist; but all that candor could desire, has been performed. The style is eminently bold and simple; and may be safely affirmed one of the best modern attempts to imite the chcistity and order of the Venetian school, with the majesty and grandeur of the Roman. — This division of the building consists of a Kustic base- ment, supporting Corinthian columns, crowned in the centre with an attic, and at the extremities with a balustrade. SOMERSET-HOUSE. 3 Nine large arclies compose the basement; the tlirec in the centre arc open, and form the entrance to tlie quadrangle ; the three at eacli end are filled with windows of the Doric order, and adorned with pilasters, entablatures, and pediments. The key-stones of the arches are carved, in ulto relievo, with nine Colossal masks, representing Ocean and the eight cliief rivers of Great Britain; viz. Thames, Ilum- ber, Mersey, Dee, IMedway, Tweed, Tyne, and Severn ; all decorated with suita- ble emblems. Above the basement, rise ten Corinthian columns, on pedestals, with regular entablatures, correctly executed. Two floors ai-e coniprehended in this order ; the windows of the inferior, being only surrounded with architraves, while those of the principal floor have a balustrade before them, and are ornamentcil with Ionic pilas- ters, entablatures, and pediments. The three central windows have likewise large tablets, covering part of the architrave and frieze, on which are represented, in bajiso relievo, medallions of the King, Queen, and Prince of Wales, supported by lions, and adorned respectively with garlands of laurel, of myrtle, and of oak. The Attic extends over three intercolumniations, and distinguishes the centre of the front. It is divided into three parts, by four Colossal statues, placed over the columns of the order : the centre division being reserved for an inscription, and tlie sides having oval windows, enriched with festoons of oak and laurel. The four statues represent venerable men in senatorial habits, each A\earing the Cap of Li- berty. In one hand, they have a Fasces, composed of reeds firmly bound together, emblematic of strength derived from unanimity, while the other sustains respectively the Scales, the Mirror, tlie Sword, and tiie Bridle; symbols of Justice, Truth, Va- lour, and Moderation. The whole terminates with a group, consisting of the Arms of the British Empire, supported, on one side, by the Genius of England, and on the other, by Fame, sounding her trumpet. The three open arclies form the only entrance. They open to a vestibule, uniting the street with the back-front, and serving as the general access to the ^^hole edifice, but more particularly to the Royal Academy, and to the Royal and Antiquarian Societies ; the entrances to which are under cover. This vestibule is decorated with columns of the Doric order, whose entablatures support the vaults, which are ornamented with well-chosen antiques, among which the cyphers of their Majesties and the Prince of Wales are intermixed. B 3 4 SOMEllSET-HOUSE. Over the central doors in this vestibule arc two busts, executed in Portland-stone, by Mr. ^Vilto^; that, on the Academy side, represents Michael Angelo Bonarotti ; that, on the side of the learned Societies, Sir Isaac Newton. The back-front of this part of the buildin?, which faces t!ie quadransrle, the archi- tect was enabled to make considerably wider than that towards the Strand. It is near two hundred feet in extent, and is composed of a corps clc logis, with two pro- jecting wings. The style of decoration is, however, nearly the same ; tlie principal variations consist in the forms of the doors and windows, and in the use ot pilasters instead of columns, except in the front of the wings, each of which has four co- lu\nns, supporting an ornament composed of two sphinxes, with an antique altar between them, judiciously introduced to screen the cliimnies from view. The masks on the key-stones of the arches are intended to represent Lares, or the tutelar deities of the place. The Attic is ornamented with statues of the four quarters of the globe. America appears armed, as b.eathing defiance ; the other three are loaded with tributary fruits and treasure. Like the Strand-front, the termination of the Attic on this side is formed by the Britisii Arms surrounded by sedges and sea-weeds, and supported by marine gods, armed v\ ith tridents, and holding a festoon of nets filled with fish and other marine productions. The other three sides of the quadrangle are formed by massy buildings of Rustic work, correspondhig with the interior of the principal front. The centre of the South side is ornamented witli an arcade of four columns, having two pilasters on each side, witliin which the windows of the front are thrown a little back. On these columns rests a jjediment ; in the tpnpanum of which is a basso relievo representing the Arms of the Navy of Great Britain, supported by a sea-nymph, riding on sea-horses, and guided by tritons blowing conchs. On the corners of the pediments are military trophies, and the whole is terminated by elegant vases placed above the columns. The East and West fronts are nearly similar, but less copiously ornamented. In the centre of each of these fronts is a small black tower, and in that of the South front a dome. All round the quadrangle is a story, sunk below the ground, in which are many of the offices subordinate to those in the basement and upper stories. SOMERSET-HOUSE. 5 Directly in the front of the entrance, and in the great quadrangle, is a bronze cast of the Thames, by Bacon, lying at the foot of a pedestal, on which is placed an elegant statue of his present JMajesty, also in bronze. The front next the Thames corresponds Avith the South front of the quadrangle, and is ornamented in the same manner. Before it is a spacious terrace, supported by arches resting on the artificial embankment of the Thames. These arches are of massy Rustic work, and the centre, or water-gate, is ornamented with a Colossal mask of the Thames, in alto relievo. There are eleven arches on each side of the centre, the eighth of which, on both sides, is considerably more lofty than the others, and serves as a landing-place to the warehouses under the terrace. Above these landing-places, upon the balustrade which runs along the terrace, are figures of lions couchant, larger than life, and well executed. The principal offices held in Somerset-House are those of the Privy Seal, and Signet; the Navy; Navy Pay; Victualling, and sick and wounded Seamens'; the Stamp ; Tax ; and Lottery, and Hawkers' and Pedlars' ; the Surveyor General of Crown Lands; the Duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster; the Auditors of Imprests; the Pipe; the Comptroller of the Pipe; and the Treasurer's Remembrancer. When the streets on the two sides are finished, there will be dwelling-houses for the Trea- surer, Paymaster, and six Commissioners of the Navy; three Commissioners of the Victualling office, and their secretary ; a Commissioner of Stamps, and one of sick and wounded ; several of whom already reside here. There are, also, commo- dious apartments in each office for a secretary, or some confidential officer, and for a porter. It appears, from the papers laid before the House of Commons, that the archi- tect's estimate of the probable expense of the projected structure was comparatively trifling: on Somerset-House, however, has already been expended half a million of money ! This very considerable difference between conjecture and reality is not to be entirely attributed to the natural disdain of restraint invariable with the practitioner of the finer arts. — The building was commenced when the nation was plunged in its destructive war with the Colonies. AMien it is recollected that Portland-stone is brought by sea, upwards of 250 miles, from the island of that name in Dorset- shire ; that Purbeck-stone is likewise conveyed by water upwards of 220 miles, from Sandwich ; and Moor-stone upwards of 330 miles, from Devonshire, or Cornwall ; a SOMERSET-HOUSE. the effect that a state ol national liostility must have on the charge and convenience of removing so many hundred tons as were required for Somerset- House, must he allowed to operate materially in producing the alleged disproportion. In many respects, Sir W. Chambers was called to the performance of a novel tusk in his dci^ign for Sonierset-lfouse. The Temple, the Palace, the Theatre, had long exerci-scd the ingenuity of architectural talent. A building destined as a national Emporium for the equal resort of art and commerce, demanded fresh exer- tions, and invited the fancy of the artist to a path, which self-dependence alone could enable him to tread. it is not our design to trace, under any particular article in this work, the direct progress of architectural skill in England. The various subjects which we shall attempt to illustrate, uill necessarily call for discussion respecting the peculiar ta.ste of precise periods ; and these casual explanations it would be impolitic to antedate by any resemblance of a regular essay. From the present topic naturally arises a recollection of the alternate prevalence of the Grecian and Roman styles in this country, after the introduction of classic architecture : an oscillation in taste which can scarcely fail to surprise the artist of the present day. " The art of building,"' says Leon Baptista Alberti, " sprang up and spent its adolescent state in Asia; after a certain time, it flowered in Greece; and, finally, acquired |)erfect maturity in Italy, among the Romans." This statement of Alberti must, on investigation, be allowed perfectly correct. — We read of roofs supported by Colossal men and animals in the works of the Egvptians, several ages before the introduction of Persians or Caryatides in the structures of Greece; and of temples adorned witli porticos, columns, and sculpture, before a single temple enriched the city of Athens. Though the Grecians cannot be deemed the inventors of ornamen- tal architecture, it must be confessed that tliey improved on their Egyptian and Phoenician models w iih much sublimity of genius. But their architectural efforts Mere entirely diverted to one focus — the construction of popular edifices. The sole aim of every refinement on Egyptian architecture, introduced by Grecian artists, was the more appropriate decoration of a temple, or a theatre. For this circumscribed study of one of the noblest arts, sufficient causes may be readily ascribed. Greece, a country far from large in itself, was divided into a number of petty states, neither populous, nor rich. This injudicious division of a limited territory SOMERSET-HOUSE. 7 induced that spirit of frugality in the breast of the government, that is ever the bane of any art, a step beyond the useful. " It must be owned," says Monsieur D' AL- lancourt, " that Greece, even in the zenith of her greatness, had more ambition than })o\ver. We find Athens tiattering herself with tiic conquest of the universe, yet unable to defend her own territories against the incursions of her neighbours." This paucity of population occasioned so great a dread of luxury, that the sump- tuary laws of the Grecian states were of the most severe nature. — One of the laws of Lycurgus ordained, " that the ceilings of houses should only be wrought by an ax; and their gates and doors be left rough from the saw."* So strict a system of equality prevailed among the Grecian States, and so entire a reverence was enter- tained for the edicts of Lycurgus, that, even in their best time, domestic decoration they accounted folly and effeminacy. — " All the States of Greece," says Plutarch, " clamoured loudly against Pericles for ornamenting Athens like a vain, fantastic woman ; and adorning it with statues and temples, which cost a thousand talents." — Even Alcibiades, the most luxurious Greek of his time (who was accused of -weaT- ing a purple cloak, and of sleeping upon a bed with a canvass bottom), does not seem to have excelled his neighbours in splendor of habitation, except in the single cir- cumstance of his house being painted ! For wealth, splendor, and power, the Romans are ackno\vledged to stand dis- tinguished as the first people of their era. No rugged and iron necessity compelled repulsive parsimony in the spirit of their laws ; and the genius of tlie nation failed not to take ad\'antage of the liberality of fortune. The Romans began, at an early period, to cultivate domestic architecture. .According to Suetonius, Julius Caesar not only embellished Rome with various costly palaces, but raised considerable structures in Italy, France, Spain, Asia, and Greece. Augustus is well known to have boasted on his death-bed that he had couverted Rome into a city of marble. From Carthage, Sicily, Egypt, and Greece, were transmitted to Rome the rarest productions of the art of design ; and the brightest intelligence of tlie Roman people was employed, through many centuries, in endeavours to perfect each indistinct con- ception of foreign genius, and to reduce to practice each glittering theory that acci- * This law was so scrupulously observed among the Lacedaemonians, tiiat when King Leotychidas «aw at Corinth a ceiling of which the timbers were neatly wrought, it is said to have been a sight so new to him, that he asked his host if trees grew square in that country ?" 8 SOMERSET-HOUSE. dent had prevented neighbouring talent from carrying beyond mere visionarv- existence. Vespasian not only erected the temple of Peace, and that dedicated to Minerva, (two of the richest and largest covered buildings of anticjuity), but encouraged the construction of various superb palaces; and obliged the proprietors of ruined houses to rebuild them w ith an attention to symmetry and taste. Tlie palaces of Caligula and Nero were, in extent, like towns ; and Domitian had so great a love for building, that he is said to have wished he were another Midas, that he might indulge his propensity without controul.* Thus considering that the Grecians only studied architecture as accessaiy to s]ilendor of religious worship, while the Romans carried the art through every avenue of taste, grandeur, and domestic convenience, is it not surprising that when the Gothic mode began to decline in England, and lettered fervour looked for em- bellishment to the antique, that the Grecian, and not the Roman style was adopted as tlie standard of imitation? Yet such was indi^^putably the case. The first building produced in this country in attention to the modes of classical antiquity, w as the sumptuous palace presented by Cardinal "W'olsey as a peace-offer- ing to the active apprehensions of an irritable monarch : and this primary recurrence of improved taste to the style of lettered pi cdecessors w as a monument of the mode and character of Grecian architecture. The second, in point of s[)lenilor and emi- nence, was the original palace denominated Somerset- House: and this was an awkward and incongruous mixture of the Gothic and Grecian. In the time of Elizabeth, a species of architecture prevailed, to w hich, it appears, English eccen- tricity may lay a positive claim, as it militates against all established character, and seems little other than the feeble effort of convenience to modify the Gothic and * We wish not to insinuate that every production of the Romans was deserving of imitation. We know that their remains are extremely unequal. " At Rome, as in London or Paris," says Sir W. Chambers, " there were few great architects, but many very indifferent ones j and the Romans had their connoisseurs, as we have ours, who sometimes would dictate to the artist, and cramp the fortunate sallies of his genius, force upon him and the world their own whiniiical productions, promote ignorant flatterers, and discourage, even oppress, honest merit. Vitruvius, (supposed to have lived in the Augustan age) complains loudly of this hardship; and there is a remarkable instance of the vindictive spirit of an ancient connoisseur, in Adrian, who put to death the celebrated ApoUodorus, for having ventured a shrewd remark upon a temple designed by that em» peror, and built under his direction. SOMERSET-HOUSE. g castellated style used in the earlier and more barbarous ages ; but if ever, in this period, the classical ancients Mere called to the builder's aid, Greece was the point to which his infatuated search was directed.* Inigo Jones stood in solitary opposition to the prevalent absurdities of architecture. To the active and judicious genius of Jones is to be ascribed the improved taste of architectural design that has gradually spread over the whole face of our country. Vet Jones sometimes descended to the incongruities of his period. Witness, his giving to the west end of the Gothic Cathedral of St. Paul, (after the fire of 1561) a portico of the Corinthian order; while, at the ends of the two transepts, lie placed Gothic fronts in a miserably inappropriate style ! It is to be regretted that Sir Christopher W' ren's talents were chiefly called, by the exigency of the times, to sacred architecture. His plan of rebuilding London, after the fire of 1666, was worthy of ancient Rome in its most exalted day. Had his genius been devoted to domestic structures, the noblest effects might have been expected. Sir Christopher was conversant with the stores of Italy, and tlie cor- rectness of his taste could not have done otherwise than transplant their more eligible portions to his native soil. Vanburgh's imagination was so incumbered with Grecian relics, that his genius never moved without the drawback of ponderous shackles. He mistook houses for temples, and stands forth a memorable instance, that though painting and architec- ture may most hap[)ily unite in the same professor, architecture and poetry cannot readily assimilate in one bosom.f It remained for Sir William Chambers first to construct a great national edifice, chiefly appropriated to domestic uses, after the best models of the Roman school. And this, whatever defects may be ascertained in his structure, he certainly has achieved. Free from the servility of mere imitation. Chambers availed himself of the brightest emanations of Roman talent, and, while tlie building in question re- mains in support of the assertion, we may be sanctioned in affirming that, "' not un- til the time of the architect of Somerset-House were the genuine proportions of all * A perspicuous specimen of the motley attempts at classical correctness in this age, tnay be seen at Dean in Wiltshire, where the chief entrance anil lateral divisions of the building are in the non-descript manner of Elizabeth's period, while the garden-front is Grecian, highly embellished. t Candor demands our observing that Sir Joshua Reynolds was a strenuous admirer of Vanburgh'f genius. Sir Joshua contended that there was more picturesque effect in his designs than in those of any other architect, ancient ornodern. f 10 SOMERSET-HOUSE. tJie orders correctly ascertained, and the ornaments and style of construction peculiar to each, accurately distinj^uished.'" Wiiile we allow Sir M'illiam the full praise of establishing the Roman style as a model, we readily grant that faults of no trivial import occur in his great undertak- ing—The terrace on the facade to the Thames, which projects sixty, and is designed to extend liom east to west eleven hundred feet, is supported by a lofty arcade, with columns of the Tuscan order. What was designed to impart dignity, it has been truly objected, " deprives the building of that chastity on which real grandeur so materially depends. When seen from the river, or the opposite bank, this ponde- rous sub- basement is a component part of the facade, and is never lost, except on the terrace itself. Sir W. Chambers has laid it down as a rule, that the basement ou<'ht never to become a principal part of the fabric, for the order being the richest portion of the composition ought to be predoininant ; and all the variations admitted into the works of Palladio will not justify this resignation. — But the deformity was never so egregious as at Somerset-House: the superstructure, with its paltry cupola, is utterly contemptible, crowning the unwieldy and complex basement." In the same facade, columns introduced in the upper section, standing on nothing, and supporting nothing, betray a lamentable puerility of conceit. Pedestals are most unnecessarily introduced at the small eastern arch; and the composite order is employed in the columniated projections on three sides of the quadrangle, in direct violation of every rule of simplicity and regularity. Considering the Strand-front as a mere introductory elevation, we do not hesitate to say that, without the least in- iui"y to the general design of his building. Sir AVllliam might have rendered the entrance to the quadrangle more respectable and spacious. Nor can it be without i«ore solid arguments than we have yet heard adduced, that we admit the peculiarity of site as a sufficient apology for the interment of such a huge quarry of stone as is contained in the long subterranean ranges of inferior offices. The palace that formerly occupied the ground plan of this great national building, belonged, as. we have stated, to Edward Duke of Somerset, Protector in the reign of Edward VI. On receiving a grant from his royal nephew of certain lands and buildings situated on the border of the Thames, Somerset demolished the mansions (or inns as they \\ ere termed) of the Bishops of Chester and Worcester. The church of St. I\Iary Ic Strand stood near the inn of the latter Prelate. This church was extremely ancient, and had probably become superfluous from the junction of the SOMERSET-HOUSE. H parish of St. Mary le Strand v;\\h that of St. Mary le Savoy. The church, therefore, shared the fate of the episcopal palaces, and was removed in favour of the Protector's intended edifice. — The building was formed from materials that had formerly com- posed the church of St. John of Jerusalem,* and the cloisters on the north side of St. Paul's. This palace consisted of several courts, and had a garden behind it, situated on the banks of the Thames. The front next the Strand was adorned with columns, and other decorations affecting the Grecian style ; and in the centre was an enriched gate opening to the quadrangle. On the south side of this quadrangle was a piazza before the great hall or guard-room ; beyond which were other courts that lay on a descent towards the garden. — The back-front (ne.xt to the Thames) was added to the original structure by King Charles II. and was a magnificent elevation of free-stone, with a noble piazza built by Inigo Jones. In this new building a selection of apart- ments was dedicated to the use of Royalty. These rooms commanded a beautiful prospect of the river and the adjacent country. The garden was ornamented with statues, shady walks, and a bowling-green.(' After the removal of Queen Catha- rine, Dowager of Charles II. several officers belonging to the court were permitted to lodge in the royal apartments, and a great part of the building was, for some time, used as barracks for soldiers. Somerset-yard, on the west side of the palace, extended as far as the end of Ca- therine-street. Latterly, in this yard were built coach-houses, stables, and a spa- cious guard-room. The architect of old Somerset-House is supposed to have been John of Padua, who had a salary in the preceding reign, under the title of Devizor of his Majesty's Buildings. * This church was famous for the beauty of its tower, which was " graven, gilt, and enamelled." The tower was blown up, when the materials were wanted by the Protector. t Bowls appear to have afforded, formerly, a much more fashionable arau»ement than at present.— *' Mr. Hyde," says Lord Clarendon, alluding to himself, " going to a house called Piccadilly, which was a fair house for entertainment and gaming, with handsome gravel walks, and where were an upper and lower bowling-green, whither many of the best nobility and gentry resorted for exercise," Sec. Mr. Garrard, likewise, in his letter to the Earl of Stafford, mentions " two bowling-greens made to entertain gamesters, and others, at an excessive rate, for he believes they have cost the proprietor abore four thousand pounds." (Dated June, 1635.) C 2 \n SOMERSET-HOUSE. The building was coinmcnced in 1549, and was completed with great expedition. Mr. Pennant,* into '' the north of whose displeasure" the Protector seems to have innocently sailed, observes, that " possibly the founder never enjoyed the use of this palace, for in 155'2 he fell a just victim on the scaftbhl." In this, as is the casein most instances -where prejudice anticipates the result of disquisition, Mr. Pennant is wrong: — The Duke did reside at his palace in the Strand; for his recommendatory preface to the " Spiritual Pearle," is concluded in these words: — " From ourc house at Somerset- Place, the vith day of JNIay, anno 1553." Short, however, vas the term for w hich he enjoyed his residence. The Duchess after his death, a()pears to have resided chicUy at Ilanworth, \\here she died, at the age of ninety, in the year 1587. To this palace Queen Elizabeth was in the habit of resorting, as a visitor to her kinsman. Lord Hunsdon ; to whom, \\\i\\ characteristic frugality, her Majesty lent, not sctve, Somerset-Place. Anne of Denmark, (consort of King James I.) kept her court here, ^\'ilson says, " that the Queen's court was a continued viascarado, where she and her ladies, like so many sea-nymphs, or nereides, appeared in various dresses, to the ravishment of the beholders."'f Through the shady, sequestered recesses of Somerset gardens, a more luckless Queen wandered, and struggled to hide the chagrin that fed on the best virtues of her bosom — virtues, tliat all its silent asperity, through a long succession of years, could not have tlie triumph of consuming ! — Catiiarine, the amiable, but neglected, wife of the only genius of the house of Stuart, dwelt in the palace of the once- potent Protector. The extent of insult to w hich this exemplary character was sub- jected by the profligacy of her ingenious consort, the " airy" Charles, was not cor- rectly knoMU till Mr. Peggc:j; ascertained tiiat she ^^as obliged to receive Eleanor G Wynne as a lady of her privy chamber! * Vide some Account of London, p. 129. ■\ During the occupancy of this ttiieen, the building was called Denmark-Place. % " I am ashamed to confess that I find Mrs. Eleanor Gwynne, (better known by the name of Nell Gwynne) among the ladies of the privy chamber to Queen Catharine. This was bare-faced enough to be sure! Had the King made a momentary connexion with a lady of that denomination, the offence might have been connived at by the Queen ; but the placing one of the meanest of his creatures so near the Queen's person was an insult that nothing could palliate, but the licentiousness the age, and the abandoned character of the lascivious Mouarch/' Pegge's Curialia, part 1. p. 58. SOMERSET-HOLSE. 13 Charles I. appears to have been considerably attached to Somerset-House. He prepared it for the reception of the Infantd of Spain, when a marriage vith that Princess occupied his ronuuitic fancy. — Queen Henrietta Maria shared the partiality of her consort,- in regard to this residence. In 1(^62, the old palace was repaired and beautified by Queen Henrietta, «lio then tlattered herself with the soothing hope of passing the remainder of her life in England. — Two of our most eminent poets, (Cowley and ^\'aller) have complimented her Majesty's attention to Somerset- House. AA'aller, (wlio never wanted a simile, m hen adulation was his theme) thus expresses' himself; " Constant to England in your love, " As birds are lo their wonted grove, " Though by rude hands their nests are spoil'd, " There the next spring again they build." Tew objects can be more dissimilar than the neighboinhood of Somerset- House in the days of the Protector, and the same neighbourhood in our own time. In no respect docs custom seem more entirely to have varied in the course of a verv few centuries, than in the situation chosen by English noljility tor their town-mansions. — Thomas Lord Cromwell built a palace in Tluogmorton-strcet. .John of Gaimt, Duke of Lancaster, lived in the Savoy. In 1410, a magnificent building in Cold Herbcrgh (Cold Harbour) lane, Thames-street, was granted to the Prince of ^Vales, (afterwards Henry V.) The Marquis of Dorchester, and the f'arl of Westmoreland, lived in ^Vldersgate-street ; and Edward the Black Prince could find no more eliiji- ble a place of abode than Fish-street-hiil ! This strange distribution of noble seats is to be explained only by one circum- stance : —till the accession of Elizabeth, the Tower of London afibrded an occasional residence to our Monarchs, and was uniformly the theatre of their first deliberations on coming to tlie crown. The power of attraction, therefore, oscillated between East and M'est, and the majority of noble families chose the site of tlieir castellated. inm as nearly ccjuidistant, in regard to the tower and w estern-court, as possible ; — Mith this special observance — that the vicinage of the Thames was ever a primary consideration; for, before the use of close carriages, Mater conveyance was the most luxurious appendage possible to the dignity of baronial splendor.* * James I. in a capricious mood, threatened the Lord Mayor with removing theseat of Royalty, the 14 SOMERSET-HOUSK. In consequence of tlie very considerable additions to elegance and convenience de- rived frotn its waters, the bank of the Thames, on tlie Middlesex side, was, wlien Somerset- House was originally built, in a much more desirable state than at present. A description of this embankment at the existing period would (with the exceptions of the Adelplii and the building under consideration) consist of little but circum- stances of filth, beggary, and dilapidation. In the time of Edward VI. elegant gar- dens, protected by lofty walls, embellished the margin of our great river, from Privy-bridge to Pjaynard's-hall. These gardens appended to the sumptuous buildings of the Savoy, and York, Paget, and 7\rundel Places. Each intervening spot was still tjuarded by a wall, and frequently laid out in decorative Avalks. A most pleas- ing contrast to the present horrible state of the same district ! But, on the Strand-side of the original Somerset-Place, the lapse of two centuries has worked wonders in improvement. — There ^vas no continued street here till about the year 1533.* The side next the Thames then consisted entirely of distinct man- sions, skreened from the vulgar eye by cheerless extensions of massive brick wall. The north side was formed by a thin row of detached houses, each of which pos- sessed a garden; and all beyontl was country. St. Giles's was a distant country hamlet. Opposite to Chester inn, stood an ancient cross. On this cross, in the year 1294, the judges sat to adinijiister justice, without the city. The Strand, from Charing-cross to Chester-cross, was so ruinous in the reign of Henry ^'III. that an act was made for its rejjair. Near the cross stood a maypole, whicli remained till the year 1717, when it fell to decay, and the remainder \i as obtained by Sir Isaac Newton. By that great philosopher it was conveyed to W'anstead Park, in Essex, then the seat of Sir Richard Child, and afterwards that of Lord Castlemain. The pole was found to be one hundred feet in length; and was placed in the park, under the direction of the Rev. Mr. Pound, where it assisted in supporting a telescope (given to the Royal meetings of Parliament, Sec. from the capital. " Your Majesty at least," replied the Mayor, " will be graciously pleased to leave us the river Thames?" * In the reign of Edward III. the Strand was an open highway. A solitary house occasionally occurred ; but in 1353, the ruggedness of the highway was such, that Edward appropriated a tax on wool, leather, &c. to its improvement. SOMERSET-HOUSE. 15 Society by .Moiis. Hugon) one hundred and twenty-five feet long, the largest telescope then in the world.* At the end of Drury-lane (in the immediate vicinity of the maypole) stood Drury- house, a Gothic building, ornamented with spacious gardens. — This mansion is de- serving of recollection as the asylum of Dr. Donne, the first of English satirists, and as the scene of those impolitic machinations which terminated in the death of the favourite Earl of Essex. It was not till the year 1670, that the Strand was divided from Fleet-street, by Temple-bar. In the Duke of Somerset's day, the site of this bar was occupied sim- ply by posts, rails, and chains. At no great distance from the Savoy, a bridge (denominated Ivy-bridge) crossed the road. The convent garden, (granted, after the dissolution, to the Protector) bordered on the highway. At the commencement of the last century, the Strand was lighted only by lanthorns, huns gratuitously by the inhabitants, ■« ithout any resemblance of parochial unifor- mity. Ignorant of the advantages of regular pavement, both road and foot-path boasted, in their improved day, only the pointed misery of fortuitous flints. Indeed, the Sti'and in the time of Edward VI. does not appear to have been a thoroughfare of great resort. At any rate, barrows and broad'-wheeled carts v\ere the only car- riages of passage.- — Access to the court, whether held at the Tovver, "Whitehall, or Westminster, was most readily found by means of the Thames. Modern elegance has discovered a more refined (but not more eligible) method of approacliing St. James's :— the Tower, has happily ceased to be a place of resort with our nobility. Two personages readily occur as deserving of selection for the biographical depart- ment of our undertaking : — the founder of the ancient edifice, and the architect connected « ith that great national building that has risen from the ashes of private magnificence. The family of the Scvmours, it will be recollected, was of great respectability before the notice of the reigning monarch (Henry VIII.) elicited all its * Pope has mentioned the naaypole in the following niemorable lines: " Amidst the area wide they took tlieir stand, " Where tiie tall maypole once o'erlook'd the Strand j " But now, so Anne and Piety ordain, " A church collects the saints of Drury-lane !'* 1(5 SOMERSET-HOUSE. talents, and placed it as a mark fur the envy of the great, and the admiration of the obscure. Shortly after the nuptials of Henry with Jane Seymour, he created tiiat lady's brother. Sir Edwaixl (the celebrated subject of our present inquiry). Lord Ikauchamp ;* and, six days after the birth of Henry's son by Queen Jane, the Earldom of Hertford was added to the baronial title before mentioned. During the whole reign of the fickle Henry, the Earl enjoyed a considerable portion of his confidence. In regard to the disclosure to the King of the presumed profligacy ot Queen Catharine Howard, Hertford appears to iiave acted merely at the suggestion of Archbisiiop Cranmer ; at least it is creditaljlc to his memory to form that suppo sition, for the guilt of the unfortunate Catliarine must needs appear (juitc problema tical to dis[)assionate inquiry. Hertford served in Scotland, in 1J42, under the Duke of Norfolk, and shared in the glory obtained by the English force at the battle of Solway — a day of fatality to Scotland, that entirely overcame the spirit of James V. In 1545, the Earl was likewise engaged in the Scottish war. At the head of a considerable body of troops he committetl ravages on " the middle and west marches," but appears to have had no particular opportunity of signalizing his prowess. In the ensuing twelvemonth, Hertford, in conjunction with Lord Lisle, entered France; but a peace (concluded on the 7th of June) occasioned the return of the commanders, after engaging in some skirmishes of small moment. In some degree, the fortunes of Hertford Mere connected with the fall of the Earl of Surrey; — a name dear to every Englishman who possesses the slightest veneration for literary attainment. — Surrey had been appointed Governor of Boulogne ; and, though his personal bravery was undoubted, had been unfortunate in some skir- mishes with the French. The King, in consequence, displaced him in favour of the Earl of Hertford. A substitution the more mortifying to Surrey, as he had a short time before declined marrying Lord Hertford's daughter. The subsequent fate of * Beanchamp was a revival of the family name, as far as regarded the honour of intermarriage. Of which circumstance we remind the curious in genealogy by the following quotation from Camden : " As to the Beauchamps, otherwise called de bello campo, they have flourished in great honour from the time of Henry II. especially since Cecil de Fortibus married into this family. But, in the reign of Edward IH the estate was divided, by sisters, between Roger de S. Mauro, or Seimore, and J. Meriet; both of them sprung from honourable and ancient ancestors." The noble builder of Somerset- House was designated, in legal proceedings, " Edward de Sanclo Mauro, commonly called Seimor," &c. SOMERSET-HOUSE. if the accomplished Surrey will occur to the reader, without tiie painful circumstance of repetition. It was in the reign of Edward VI. that Hertford rose above the utmost darings of his former ambition ; but rose as abruptly to fall. Henry fixed the majority of the Prince at the completion of his eighteenth year, and appointed sixteen executors, to whom, during the minority, he entrusted the government of the kingdom. Among these, the Earl of Hertford was placed conspicuous in the office of Chamberlain. The obvious inconveniences that must arise from the want of some head to represent the dignified attributes of majesty, suggested the propriety of nominating a Protector. fFi'iothesli/,* the Chancellor, stood alone in opposition to this measure. A solitary dissenting voice was, of course, over-ruled ; and on Hertford the nomination rested, as a man interested in the pros[)erity of the minor Sovereign, from the circum- stance of a tie of blood unconnected w ith any personal pretensions to the crown. According to the intention of the late Monarch (as was proved by sufficient wit- nesses) Hertford was now created Duke of Somerset, and appointed IVIareschal and Lord Treasurei". His brother, at the same time, Mas created Lord Seymour, of Sudley, and appointed Admiral. In addition to his title, the Protector was endowed with several spiritual preferments, deaneries, and prebends. A mode of encouracre- ment by no means unfrequent in periods immediately subsequent to the dissolution of monasteries. The dangers arising fi'om party rivalry, during the minority of a crowned head, are too evident to need delineation. And these dangers were peculiarly fearful during the minority of Edward \^I.: a period in which the bitterness of religious contention Mas mingled Avith the inevitable struggles of interest and ambition. The constant aim of the Protector evidently appears to have been the increase of his individual authority in the Council. ^Vriothesly, (now Earl of Southampton) had, from his own autliority, put the Great Seal in commission. This act, decidedly illegal, caused Somerset to remove the Chancellor. It may, however, be safely af- * Wriotbesly was a.man of a violent and sanguinary temper. If Fox, Speed, and Baker may be depended on (a dependance, perhaps, not altogether secure) when Anne Ascue, in the preceding reign, was put to torture, on a religious question, Wriothesly, with pitiless, unmanly zeal, ordered the Lieutenant of the Tower to stretch the r^ck still farther; and on that officer refusing, the Chancellor performed the operation with his own hand! D 18 SOMERSET-HOUSE. firmed that the removal ofaiieneinj, both poHtical and reUgious, ^vas Somerset's primary motive for stigmatizing the conduct of the Earl of Southampton. It remains to be ascertained whether his demeanor in this and similar instances was occasioned by a narrow and despicable spirit of private animosity, or that expansive and liberal ambition that studies, through individual advancement, the good of the public at large. Not satisfied with the degradation of the Wriothesly faction, Somerset procured a patent, by which he was named Protector, with such an extent of power as enabled him to appoint a council and exercise all the privileges of sovereignty. Seldom has individual man (not invested with the ermine and purple of a throne) occupied a station of more responsibility. Let us sec how the Protector conducted himself — Somerset was inclined to what was called the Reformation of religion, at this juncture so critical in regard to ecclesiastical affairs. The former reign afforded an ample excuse for severity; but Somerset chiefly employed the means of argument and mercy. He appointed a general visitation to be made of all the dioceses of England; but the visitors were enjoined to retain, for the present, all images which had not been abused to idolatry, and to instruct the people not to treat with con- tumely such ceremonies as were not yet abrogated, but only to beware of such ridi- culous superstitions as " the sprinkling of their beds with holy water, and the ring- ing of bells, or using of consecrated candles, in order to drive away the devil."* Gardiner was the chief opposer of the Protector's innovations ; for which opposi- tion he was confined for a time in the Fleet ; but no faggot was lighted to settle the religious sentiments of the vehement Bishop. And the only injury that Gardiner appears to have received, except the disgrace of confinement, is the epithet affixed to him by that argumentative martyi'ologist, Fox ; who, in the true spirit of Chris- tian meekness, and \\ ith all the liberality expected to mark a man of letters, terms the steady Catholic " an insensible ass !" for the perseverance with which he insisted on his opinions. A very dear object, in the views of the Protector, was a marriage between his royal nephew and the young Queen of Scots. The harshness of the age can only account for the strange manner in which Somerset endeavoured to urge the propriety of this union : in order to persuade tlie Scots to enter into an amicable intermar- riage with this country, he went to war with them ! The conflict was supported, for * See Hume, 291. Burnet, 28, &c. SOMERSET-HOUSE. 19 a considerable time, with alternate success and perplexity ; but, in the issue, it redounded to the honour of English prowess, though the junction formed between France and Scotland wrested from the hopes of Somerset all prospect of an alliance between the two neighbouring crow ns. Of the battle of Pinke}-, (so called from the neighbourhood of a nobleman's man- sion), we must be allowed to give some account, as a due appreciation of Somerset's military talents appears connected with that event. — The English, with the Protec- tor at their head, came in sight of the whole assembled force of Scotland, at Faside, a spot within a short distance of Edinburgh. The position of the Scots appeared so formidable, tliat Somei'set (with the advice of Lord Warwick) changed the ground of which he had first taken possession, and moved nearer the sea. Apprehensive that the English meant to embark in the fleet, which rode at that time in tlie bay, the Scottish forces quitted their camp, and advanced into the plain, divided into three bodies. Encouraged by the rashness of his adversary, Somerset ranged his van on the left, farthest from tlie sea, and ordered them to remain on the high grounds till the enemy should approach. He placed his main battle and his rear towards the right; and beyond the van, he stationed the men at arms, with orders to take the Scottish van in flank, but not till they should be engaged in close fight \\\\h the ^'an of the English. The Scots were much galled on their advance by the artillery from the English ships. The Irish archers attached to their army were thrown into disorder, and even the other troops began to stagger. Lord Grey, (who commanded the English men at arms) perceiving the situation of the enemy, now pressed forward, in con- tempt of orders, and made an attack on the Scottish infantry; but, from accidents of situation, the men at arms were repelled, and the whole English power thus placed in most perilous circumstances. At this juncture, the Protector shewed that self-command which constitutes a true general, and rallied the cavalry with diligence and success. He caused the foot harquebusiers to advance and ply the Scottish infantry with their shot. The ships, the artillery, ^[)lanted on a height) and the English archers, united their powers in the same awful moment, and the Scotch fled. Few victories, says Hume, have been more decisive. There fell not two hundred of the English, while of the Scots, according to the most moderate computation, above ten tliousand perished. D 2 20 SOMERSET-HOUSE. A war with France succeeded the Scottish contest. Aw'are of the disordered state of the national financies, and disappointed in liis hope of assistance from the Empe- ror, Somerset attempted all tlie palliative arts of negotiation. In these attempts lie appears to have been, in no small degree, actuated by a genuine conviction that not any real cause of hostihty existed between the two powers. So liberal a motive must certiiinly do him honour as a man, though his forbearance provoked many aspersions of his character as a politician. The laws enacted during the plenitude of Somerset's authority were characterised by mildness and urbanity. He expunged the offensive rigour of Henry's most formidable statutes, and seemed more anxious to prevent error, than to punish crime. But the bane of a minor government — ceaseless faction — perplexed and retarded every struggle of the Protector for the benefit of the common-weal. At the head of the cabals formed against Somerset was seen, to the disgrace of every social feeling, his brother Thomas Lord Seymour, the Admiral. This nobleman, notoriously un- principled and ambitious,* was perpetually engaged in intrigues, the avowed purpose of which was to separate the office of governor of the King's person, from that of Protector of the kingdom. He tampered with the young King's servants, and suc- ceeded in gaining a considerable ascendancy over the mind of Edward. He even provided arms for ten thousand men ; and gave every indication of the most dange- rous and turbulent spirit of illicit enterprise. Somerset, well apprised of the Ad- miral's daring designs, endeavoured " by the mo.st friendly expedients, by intreaty, reason, and even by heaping new favours on him, to make hiin desist from his per- nicious counsels ;'" but in vain. The Earl of Warwick, who had equal ambition, and superior art to either the one brother or the other, laboured to ^^ iden the breach in order to effect the ruin of both. With Thomas Lord Seymour he easily succeeded. The intemperate resolves of that nobleman seemed indeed prophetic of abrupt ruin. He was committed to the ToAver, tried, and condemned. The warrant under which he suffered was necessarily signed by the Duke of Somerset! To such severities of * Thomas Lord Seymour married the Queen Dowager of Henry VIII. His illustrious wife soon died; and her suspicions, when dying, have given rise to the most dreadful surmises. It is certain, that, during the life of Catherine, her husband entertained designs on the Princess Elizabeth. He was favourably received by the object of his ambition. Their chief place of meeting was Bath's inn, in the Strand. In Burghley's State Papers, from page 95 to 103, may be seen a detail of Lord Seymour's cooduct, SOMERSET-HOUSE. 21 circumstance are those subjected, who act officially for others, while they cannot avoid feeling for themselves ! The Protector, on every public occasion, stood forward as the champion of the people. His chief attention appears to have been ever directed to the relief of the lower classes. The commonalty of England experienced very severe afflictions at this period from the suppression of monasteries (the superfluities of which were uni- formly distributed in charity) and the frequent inclosures, which drove the cottager even from the bare-worn^ heath, and robbed hiui at once of fuel, sustenance, and freedom. Somerset, A\ho had " a heart open as day to melting charity," caused such of the commons as were most eligible to the poor and least calculated for tlie purposes of tillage, to be thrown again into general use. The wealthy land-holder remonstrated; but there occurs this one instance in English history of the voice of the abject and forlorn outweighing, in the estimation of government, that of the potent and disdainful. — In so much Avas this the case with the Protector, that he instituted a Court of Requests in his own house, for the purpose of hearing (as Htyrpe informs us) " the petitions and suits oi poor men ; and upon the compassion he took of their oppressions, if he ended not their business, he would send his letters to chancery in their favour !" A conduct so favourable to the great (but at that time despised) bulk of the com- monwealth, must be supposed to have given high offence to a majority of the gentrj' and nobility ; but we unwillingly remind the reader of what must once have given him surprise — the frequent insurrections among the commotialty of Edward VI. reign. Without so far imputing malignity to human nature, as to affirm that gentle- ness and mercy can never effectually govern a mass of people, we would point at the gloomy ignorance of the age as the cause of such thankless and insensible turbu- lence.— That gloomy ignorance, that rendered the lower throngs of society lighter than the feather before the wind, that moves to either point, as fluctuating breezes stimulate.— Tiie insurgents, however, were mistaken when they deemed lenity weak- ness. Prompt and vigorous measures were taken by the Protector on the first alarm and each insurrection was effectually quelled. The embarrassments occasioned to government by the French war gave opportu- nity to the faction inimical to Somerset, to effect his downfal. The youthful Edward (notwithstanding his boasted precocity of talent anil dejith of learning) appears to have been the easy dupe of every artful man that could gain access to him. He 22 SOMERSET-HOUSE. nou withdrew his shelter from his uncle, and Somerset was comniittcd to theTowei. So great was the humiliation of the Duke, that he submitted to confess on his knees, before the Council, all the articles of charge exhiUitctl against him. On this confes- sion, his enemies were, for tiie present, satisfied witii dcj)riving him of all his offices, and fining him two thousand pounds a year in land. But the jealous ambition of M'arwick (shortly dignified with the title of Duke of Northumberland) caused him to look \vith dislike on the popularity Somerset still possessed, in spite of comparative poverty and degradation. Even the alliance that existed between the families, (Northumberland's son had married the former Protector's daughter) availed nothing. Northumberland gained, by sinister means, the confidence of Somersets principal servants. The unguarded Duke often " broke out into menacing expressions against his enemy. At other times, he formed rash projects, which he immediately aban- doned, and his treacherous confidents carried to their employer every passionate M-ord ^vhich dropped from him." — At length these very betrayers suggested to So- merset a plan for murdering Northuujberland, Northampton, and Pembroke, at a banquet to be given by Lord Paget. , An insurrection in the North was to second this enterprise; the Tower was to be secured; and a rebellion excited in London This suggestion was made the instrument of his utter ruin. In one night, the Duke of Somerset, and nearly the whole of his small residue of friends, were committed to custody ; and next day, the Duchess, with her favourite attendants, were thrown into prison. Somerset was tried on the double charges of high treason and felony. With in- decent malignity, Northumberland, Pembroke, and Northampton composed three of the jury. Still the treasonable part of the charge was so weakly-supported that a majority of the Peers gave a verdict in favour of the accused. The intention of assaulting privy-counsellors was, however, so far established by evidence, that he was convicted of felony, and received sentence accordingly. The crowds without, who waited with deep anxiety the issue of this important trial, expressed their of)inion of the question by loud and reiterated shouts when the j)riso- ner was exonerated from the first part of his accusation, and the grief occasioned by his conviction of felony was denoted in terms no less sincere, and scarcely less boisterous. This once-potent and magnificent Duke met his fate on the scaffold of Tower-hill. He was attended by immense throngs of spectators, whose clamorous friendship SOMERSET-HOUSE. 23 broke forth in demands for his pardon, even to tlie last moment. Many of them " rushed forward to dip their handkerchiefs in his blood, which they long preserved as a precious relique ; and some of them, soon after, when Northumberland met with a like doom, upbraided him with this cruelty, and displayed to liim these symbols of his crime. The character of the Protector Somerset, we are decidedly of opinion, has been much misrepresented by many historians. A cool spirit of impartiality is, indeed, a quality of rare attainment to the biographer. Indulging the too frequent propensity to detraction, he joins the virulence of every satirist with indiscriminate acrimony ; or (like tlie painter who decks with studious beauty each face that employs his pen- cil, and, from a love of symmetry, alloMs to no feature its real want of proportion) our biographer becomes enamoured of the character he has laboured to develope, and makes a. favoured hero of him who should afford a subject of comparative praise and reprehension. Endeavouring to avoid both these extremes, we pronounce opposite qualities of the most marked character to have existed in the mind of Somerset, but deny am- bition to have been the leading principle of his conduct. A much more simple was of solving his actions is at the same time grateful to feeling, and probably congenial to truth. — A genuine love of country, and concern for the welfare of his royal nephew appear quite sufficient to warrant nearly all the assumptions objected to tlie Duke of Somerset. — The illegality of those first steps of the Protector, which overturned the will of Henry VIII. and conveyed to himself a power little short of despotic, is cer- tainly undeniable, but for a usurpation so bloodlessly achieved, and exercised with so much meekness, surely the necessity of the times furnish an excuse? A contrarietj' of ambitious projects animated the chief members of the council. With this conflict of interests, the minor nephew of the Protector m ould never be able to combat. His own existence, the safety of the royal person, and the general tranquillity de- pended on the absorption of these increasing factions in one great and unequivocal authority. Somerset seized the right moment ; and the conduct of those members, whose power lie thus curtailed, when they gained strength to assert their wishes, proves the propriety of his anticipations. The idle splendor with which the Protector %\as accustomed to move, and his arrogance in placing himself at the Kings right hand (when on the throne) seated on a stool, or bench, is to be attributed entirely to an influence from which the brave 24 SOMERSET-MOUSE. and accomplished are seldom quite exempt. — An idle contention in point of prece- dence prevailed in the fan)ily. The wife of Thomas Lord Seymour (as Dowager Queen) took place of the Duchess of Somerset, tliougli wife of the elder brother. — Trifles no more weighty than this have been known to produce more formidable events than a nobleman's placing a stool at his sovereign's right hand. And the pomp of Somerset's official establishment was, after all, insignificant compared with the costly voluptuousness of Wolsey. Somerset's brotlicr, all, but the prejudiced, nnist admit to liave solicited his own fate. And the tardiness with \\ hicii tlie Protector punisiicd the dangerous machina- tions of the unprincijjled Seymour proves that he thorou^ lily knew the value of those fraternal feelings, of which he was making a sacrifice to the good of his sovereign, and the safety of the public peace. Mr. Pennant,* who, as far as regards his biographical delineations, appears to have travelled with a post-haste expedition through the realms of literature that al- lowed h.im time only to take a superficial view of the objects that occurred, brings a charge of a curious nature against the Protector Somerset — Alluding to the eccle- siastical buildings destroyed by Somerset for the purpose of using their materials in his new mansion, Mr. Pennant says, " The crime of sacrilege is never mentioned among the nuDicroi/i- artic/c.s brought against him. Mortals should be very delicate in pronouncing the vengeance of heaven on their fellow-creatures, yet in this instance without presumption, without siipemtition!!! one may suppose his fall to have been marked out by the Almighty as a warning to impious men ! He fell lamented only because his end was effected by a man more xvickcd, more ambitious, and more de- tested than himself" — The name of Pennant has obtained, in many points, a deserved respectability in letters. How nuich is it to be lamented that a conceit of fanciful piety should have betrayed liim into the use of such undue epithets as the above ! Did not Mr. Pennant know " that in those days every great man, Protestant and Papist, shewed equal rapacity after the goods of the church ?" — These are his own words ; and, " if it were common, why seemed it so particular" in Somerset ? — Tlrat it was common in the times w hich immediately followed the dissolution wc can easily substantiate. — " On the east of the ciiurch-yard of St. Paul," says Lambert, " was a clocliier, or bell-tower, wherein were four great bells, called Jesus bells, from their belonging to Jesus chapel, in St. Faith's church ; but these, together \\ ith * Vide pages Q7 and 129 of " Some Account of London." SOMERSET-HOUSE. 25 a fine image of St. Paul, on the top of the spire, being xeon by Sir Miles Partridge, of Henry VIII. at one cast of the, dice, were by that gentleman taken down and soldr ' We extract these lines, not in consideration of the importance of the property wrested in this instance from sacred hands, but to sheM- in what a trivial light the act called, by Mr. Pennant, sacrilege, was held in the age concerning which he writes. — Mr. Pennant's notice of Somerset is all declamation, and as such we must affirm a species df moral sacrilege of quite as criminal a character as tliat he would wish to impute to the injured subject of his reflections, The weakness of Somerset is indignantly mentioned by most of his historians. As a politician, we really do not perceive that he betrayed any peculiar weakness. He certainly seems to have acted under the controul of his turbulent and imperious Duchess ; but, on adverting to the numerous great characters subject to the same predominancy, conjecture such a submissiveness of temper rather to be indicative of indolence than mental imbecility. The public life of Somerset may be divided into two eras, tliat prior to his expul- sion from office, and the period subsequent. — After his disgrace, he assuredly ap- pears never to have behaved Avith the dignity of self-possession before observable. His retaining a seat as a private member in that council, over which he had been ac- customed to preside, may be attributed to the ardour with which he wished to w atch over the interests of his Prince, even in opposition to personal tieelings; but the tame- ness with which he condescended to kneel before his accusers, and acknowledge the errors of his judgment, can never be reconciled to the consistency required in a great mind, even in the utmost humility of situation. Perfection is well known to be too much to expect. Let historians term him weak, and let Mr. Pennant proclaim him wicked,* still let us remember that Somer- set was ever the FRIEND OF THE PEOPLE, while supporting the just dignity of the crown ; and that he retained popular applause through the whole of an admini- * Poof Mr. Pennant tells us that Somerset had an intention of pulling clown Westminster Abbey for the benefit of his building in the Strand. In the extremity of his alarm, Mr. Pennant has taken hold of the wrong pile. It was the church of St. Margaret's, Westminster, and not" the second mitred Abbey in the kingdom" on which Somerset had fixed his wishes. 26 SOMERSET-HOUSE. stration, peculiar in its circumstances of responsibility, and which afl'orded ample scope for the exercise of the most tyrannous propensities. Adverting from ancient baronial contention to the annals of modern art and science, it remains to take notice of tlie life of Sir William Chambers. Of this memorable architect we believe there is no biographical account extant. Hints for the limited memoir subjoined, we have had the honour of receiving from the condescension of one of the most illustrious characters connected with the science and letters of this kinjjdom. Sir William Chambers (Knight of the Polar Star, Surveyor General of hi.s Ma- jesty's Board of Works, Treasurer of the Royal Academy, and Fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies) was of Scotch extraction, though a native of Gottenburgh in Sweden. The family of Chaluiers is of considerable antiquity in Scotland, and formerly possessed the Barony of Tartas in France. Concerning his family deriva- tion, however, Sir William appears not to have entertained any pride. He probably never inquired into the situation of his Scottish coimexions, and certainly never used the nominal orthography to which he was by birth entitled. His grandfather was a merchant of some enjinence, who suffered materially by supplying Charles XH. of Sweden with goods, for which he was in part paid with the adulterated coin of that warlike Monarch. The important claims possessed bv the family on that country, induced Sir William's father to repair to Sweden, where he resided for many years. The first entrance into life of the subject of our memoirs was in quality of super- cargo to a Sv\ edish East India ship. A situation which he occupied to the full satis- faction of his employers. At a very early age, he, however, quitted the Company's service, and devoted his attention to the art in which he afterwards attained so con- siderable an eminence. Shortly after his application to architectural studies, he visited England, and ven- tured to appear before the public in capacity of author. His first work was a " Dis- sertation on Oriental Gardening." A second edition soon appeared, to which was annexed an explanatory discourse by a Chinese writer. This discourse was so skil- fully burlesqued in the " Heroic Epistle," that Chambers would gladly, at a subse- quent period, have suppressed his Oriental speculations, though they certainly appear to have laid the ground-work of his future fortunes, for it was this publication that recommended him to the notice of Lord Bute, at the instance of whose advice SOMERSET-HOUSE. 37 Chambers was employed to erect the brick Pagoda ^\hich stands in the south-east corner of the royal gardens of Kew, at which place her Royal liighness the Princess Dowager of Wales then resided. It was here, no doubt, while employed in this work, that he profited by the con- tinual opportunities he possessed of soliciting the notice of our gracious sovereign, whose practice through life it has invariably been never to relax in good offices to the merit that has once happily gained his esteem. To the uniform protection of his royal master. Sir William was entirely indebted for his appointment to the Surveyorship of the Board of Works.* Before that ap- pointment, Sir William \mderwent all the pecuniary difficulties inevitably usual with a junior student in the finer arts. But the immense emoluments derived from the fees and perquisites of his vast office (then in the zenith of its opportunities) immedi- ately out him in receipt of a considerable income. In all Sir William's architectural undertakings, he appears to have had in view the general establishment of a taste for the Roman style of building. Respecting the propriety of his conduct in this particular, we have before ventured to give our opinion. He certainly had reason to be highly gratified with the success of his endeavours. In a still more essential point are the arts indebted to the friendly exertions of Sir William Chambers. We consider it as an eulogy of the most flattering description to name the architect of Somerset-House as the most active person concerned in found- ing the Royal Academy. The first effort towards any resemblance of an association of the artists of this country occueloved residence, and that treasured kingdom, which he knew not how to die for like a sovereign of the Moors.' Remains of the Moriscan military architecture abound in Spain. Of these, Almanza and Abocaca are perhaps the more important. Much judgment is shown in selection of site, and their massive solidity readily attests the perseverance of the builders. Beauty is scarce to be expected. Nearly all military fastnesses have the same oppressive features, the same appalling elevations. If they ever offer grati- fication to the eye of taste, it is when in their decline. Then, we feel the truth of the poet's remark : ■■ " Time's gradual touch Has moulder'd into beauty many a tow'r. Which, when it frown'd with all its battlements, Was only terrible." — — The third era of the division into which we ventured to allot the art of architec- ture in Spain, commences with the destruction of the Moriscan sovereignty. — Within S6 KSCURIAL. the walls of the Alhainbni, Charles V. in 16()8, commenced a new palace, which, though never entirely completed, is well worthy of note and consideration. He fixed the building on a hill, which is ascended by a road bordered with hedges of double or imperial myrtles, and rows of elms. The edifice is composed of yellow stone. The outside forms a square of one hundred and ninety feet. The inside is a grand circular court, with a portico of the Tuscan, and a gallery of the Doric, order; each supported by thirty-two coluuuis, made of as many single pieces of marble. The diameter of the aiea, wliich is without a roof, is ninety-three feet ; the covered portico is eighteen feet wide ; cou.iequently the whole diameter of the rotunda is one hun- dred and twenty-nine feet. Tlie palace has fifteen windows in front, and is two stories in height. Between the windows are fourteen lions' mouths and eagles' beaks, alternately ; the whole of bronze, and each sustaining a large bronze ring. On the fiize is carved, in large letters, on stone, IMP. CJES. CAROLO V. PV. (or Plus Ultra* ) In several of the rooms the walls are covered with the same de- vice, in stucco, with French substituted for Latin {Plus Oult>-e.) The grand entrance is ornamented with columns of jasper, on the pedetsals of which are representations of battles, in maible baso relievo. The Alcazar (or royal palace) at Toledo, is a second edifice that owes its origin to Charles V. It is situated on a steep hill, near five hundred feet above the Tagus, and commands extensive prospects over the city and the adjacent country. It has eleven windows in front, and is three stories in height, with a stojie balus- trade on the top, forming a square of two hundred and si.vty feet. TIjc cortile is built with porticos, consisting of thirty-two arches of the Corinthian and Conjposite orders, and was originally two stories in height. The grand staircase is of very fine architecture; — after a straight ascent on a flight of steps, fifty feet broad, it is divided to tlie right and left. In one corner of the building is a geometrical stair- case. The whole edifice is of the Beroquena stone, of the same kind with that of which the Escurial is built. The grand entrance is by an arched door, having two Ionic columns on each side. The offices and stables under ground are on the most liberal scale, and judiciously adapted to their respective purposes. The latter, • The favorite motto of this Monarch, and a very singular inscription to be chosen by a prince who meditated for years a retirennent fron\ that world which his own anabition bad plunged in general warfare ! ESCURIAL. ' 87 when in due preservation, were said to be capable of containing five thousand horses.* The roof and galleries were destroyed by fire, in the year 1710, and the palace has very long been hastening to the last stages of decay. The palace of Araujtiez is, in itself, neither remarkable for size nor beauty. It is of a square form, and has twenty-one windows in front, and a turret at each end. Before the palace are three very large walks, each planted with four rows of tall elms; small canals run between each ro\v, which keep the roots constantly supplied with water, and cause the trees to grow to an extraordinary size. — On the gardens of Aranjuez the chief attention of the founder was bestowed. Through these the river Tagus runs, and its banks acquire so many beauties from the refined cultivation of the scene, that Don (iomez de Tarpia does not hesitate to say, Desde a!li a sufueute. Ni hasta el oceano Lusitans No se halla en otra parfe mas Ufano.f The gardens are ornamented with seven fountains. That of the Tritons is deco- rated with several marble statues, which are thought to be the work of Alfonso Berruquete. The fountain of Bacchus consists principally in a statue of that god, bestriding a cask ; both the god and the cask are of bronze ; Bacchus is represented extremely fat, and larger than the life. The largest fountain is tliat of Hercules ; the statues which accompany it have little merit. The fountain of Neptune is the best in the gardens. This is surrounded by seven groups, in bronze. The figures are nearly as large as life, and represent Jupiter and Juno launching thunderbolts at the giants ; Ceres in a car drawn by four lions ; and Neptune w itli his trident, in a shell drawn by Tritons. The other three fountains, which are of inferior elegance, are those of the harpies ; of the Dolphins ; and of ])on John of Austria. The gar- dens likewise contain two statues, in bronze, Venus and Antinous, as large as the life, cast from the antique. The royal palace of St. Ildefonso is built of brick, plastered and painted. It is two stories high, and the garden front has thirt}'-one windows, and twelve rooms in a suit. In the middle is situated a church. The gardens are on a slope, on the top * This assertion may not appear decidedly improbable, when we recollect the extent of retinue *hich Spanish monarchs were formerly accustomed to maintain. t Neither from hence to its source, nor to the I iisitanic ocpan, is it to be found more beautiful 88 ' ESCURIAL of which is the great reservoir of water known by the appellation of cl mar, (the sea) wliich supplies the fountivins. This reservoir is furnished from the torrents wliich pour down the hills. In the gardens are twenty-seven fountains ; the basins are o\ white marble, and the statues (which are particularly fine) are of lead bronzed and gilt. There are two noble cascades, of ten falls each. The gardens are also orna- mented with sixty-one marble statues, as large as the life ; with twenty-eight marble vases ; and with twenty leaden vases, gilt. For the diversion of the younger branches of the royal family, a mall was constructed, five hundred and eighty paces in length. Near which (we will presume for the same purpose) was formed a large labyrinth. — The fountain of Fame, which is the lowest in situation, spouts water to the height of one hundred and thirty-four feet (precisely the elevation of the church-steeple.) Some idea of the taste which guided the works of art in this palace, may be formed from an enumeration of the principal statues in tlie garden. These are : — the four elements, poetically figured ; four allegorical figures, representing pastoral, lyric, heroic, and satiric poesy; four fames ; the four seasons; the four quarters of the world ; Apollo and the nine muses ; groups of Cephalus and Procris, Endymion and Diana, &c. All the rooms have their ceilings painted in fresco. The floors are of chequered stone, and the tables of the finest Spanish marble, of various sorts. A manufactory of glass in the neighbourhood enabled the builder to place plates of unusual dimen- sions in the gilt leaden sockets with which the window frames are enriched. Tlie royal palace of Madrid, begun in the year 1736, is built of white stone. The form is square, and it is situated on the most elevated extremity of the town. It is three stories in height ; each story containing t\\enty-one windows. The front is four hundred feet, in length. On the top of the building is a balustrade, orna- mented with stone vases. There are five doors in front ; over the middle door is a gallery, supported by four columns. The back front is ornamented v\ith a grand flight of steps. The cortile of state is a square of one hundred and ninety-five feet. The dome of the chapel is supported by sixteen marble columnsv The gi-and saloon is one hun- dred and twenty feet, in length, and has five windows in front. The tables are of Spanish marble, and the ceiling painted in fresco.* The assemblage of pictures is * By Tiepolo, the Venetian, who died at Madrid about the year 1773. ESCURIAL. 89 ot" tlie first character, botli as to number and excellence, and inunense looking glasses from St. Ildefonso crowd the numerous apartments. Having thus submitted specimens of the three great eras of architecture in Spain, we proceed to a descriptive account of the Escurial. The pile of building so termed is situated in 40" 34' latitude, and is six leagues and a half (thirty miles) distant from JNIadrid. It is seated on an acclivity, which forms part of the chain of mountains that extend to Segovia, where, taking a direc- tion north-west, they unite with the Pyreneans, and assist in separating the territo- ries of France and Spain. In the vicinity of the Escurial, these prodigious elevations are chiefly devoid of all alleviating circumstances of wood or verdure, though some few are crowned by forests of pine, or softened by long ranges of firs. This situa- tion for a royal palace, raised with so mucli perseverance and at a prodigious ex- pense, would appear unquestionably to be ill-chosen ; and in many respects it cer- tainly is so. A back ground containing such ponderous natural phenomena as the frowning army of mountains that look down on tlie Escurial, must necessarily dimi- niih the seeming consequence of the noblest \\ ork of art ; while the absence of inter- mingled w^ood and w ater, of gentle slope and fertile valley, cannot be denied to tend in a painful degree to the communication of gloomy and disgusting ideas. The w ant of taste betrayed in this particular, will, however, be found not peculiar to the pro- jector of the Escurial. The Spaniards of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries had little or no relish for the picturesque in nature. This may be readily supposed far from implying a nati\'e dulness of perception, or rudeness of feeling, when we recol- lect that the gloomy spirit of their ecclesiastics virtually forbade any poetical elegance of rural description by declining to license the more vivid lettered excursions of fancy ; and those glowing studies of nature \\ hich transplant the charms of the towering mount or smiling vale to the canvas of the painter, can never be looked for in a country where the fanaticism of devotees bestows encouragement chiefly on the artists who labour to illumine the creed of national superstition. — ^^'here poetry and painting are mute, that feeling which suggests an entliusiastic admiration of natural beauties will generally lie dormant also. In consequence, very tew of the Spanish noblesse maintained, in those periods, any mansion in the country ; and when the Chateau was assumed as an ornamental appendage to affluence and rank, it was visually placed auiid the uninteresting tameness of the provincial town. — Custom, qO ESCURIAL. therefore, might operate materially with the founder, in regard to the cheerless situ- ation of his palace ; but it is highly probable that convenience might do u)ore. The Escurial is composed of that species of stone termed beroquena, which resembles a kind of granite. It is of a grey color, and though not so hard as granite is calcu- lated to resist all severities of weather, without loss of color. This stone the neigh- boring quarries produced, in surprising abundance; and when the magnitude of the building is explained, and the immense sums its elevation required arc stated, it would appear that neither the treasure nor life of one prince \vould have Ijeen suffi- cient to mature such an edifice, in a country Uke Spain, where the dithculties of con- veyance are inconceivably important, if the site had been placed far distant from the quarry intended to compose the structure. This building was designed, and nearly completed by King Philip II. It owes its construction chiefly to superstitious fear. It will be recollected that in the war which Philip ventured to wage againt the Pope, at the very commencement of his reign, the holy Father found an ally in the King of France. The result of various contests placed the respective parties at issue before the walls of St. Quintin. That town (tlic key, in the sixteenth century, to tlie territories of the Gallic Monarch) was invested by the Spaniards and English conjointly, under the command of Phili- bert, Duke of Savoy. St. Quintin was on the point of falling a prey to the united valor of its besiegers, when timely succour from the side of France suspended its fate, and produced the horrors of bloody conflict before its v^alls.. On the day con- secrated by the Roman calendar to the memory of St. Laurence, the arniies of France and the Allies, the one headed by Montmorency, the other by the Duke of. Savoy, met in the Held and struggled for the palm of victory with heroic ardor. Fortune seconded the valor of the allied powers ; and when Philip, who waited the issue of the contest, at Cambra^f, was informed of the signal success of the Spanish arms, he fell on his knees, and viadc a vow* to build a church, a monastery, and a palace, in honor of the Saint and martyr on w/iose day the battle had been won. * Vota, or vows, were introduced in the thirteenth century, during the pontificate of Boniface the VIII. — It will be observed that the superstitious apprehensions of Philip were particularly excited by a war carried on ajfainst the Pope, whose spiritual power he, with great humility, acknowledged, while he endeavored to despoil him of temporal authority. A curious distinction between. official and personal veneration ! When the Duke of Braganza (in the time of Philip) was introduced to the Escurial, and told that it ESCURIAI^ 91 The name of the building that dates its original from so mistaken a notion of piety, has afforded subject for a controversy equally perplexing and unimportant. One writer maintains thatt the term Escurial is derived from an Arabic word, signifying a place full of rocks; and he very justly supports his opinion by local analogy. . .tlie character of the whole country surrounding the palace being of a rocky description. — Another observes that Escoria (from tlie Latin Scoria) is the term, in the Spanish language, for metallic dross; and that Escurial is the topographic deri\ative signifying the place of reception for this dross. — And this second opinionist is equally sup- ported by local circumstance. . .for there certainly are abundance of ferruginous ores in the neighboring mountains. — Whei'e the arguments are so equal, and the result so inconsequential, we rest contented Mith merely observing that the village called El Escurial, directly adjacent to Philip's palace, was in existence before that edifice raised its towers, and thence, undoubtedly, is the name of the structure immediately derived. The whole building consists of a palace, a church, a convent, and a burial-place. It was begun in the year 1 563, and was not completed till the expiration qf twenty- two years. The expense to Philip the second is said to have been six millions of gold, though many additions have been made since the time of tlie founder. The principal architect was John Bat Monegro, of Toledo, a disciple of Berrugete, and one of the architects concerned in the church of St. Peter, at Rome. He had for an assistant his former pupil, John de Herrera. Some subsequent improvements were made under the direction of Antonio de Villaccstro. There can be no circumstance more mortifying to an architect of vivid imagination and excursive powers than such a prescriptive outline, fiom the taste of his employer, as forbids the bolder creations of professional enthusiasm, and deprives the artist of one great stimulus to exertion. . . .the suggestions of a laudable vanity. Under this was built in consequence of a vow, he pointedly observed, *' that he who made so great a vow must needs have had a violent terror on him !" — But the bigotry of the King rendered him at all limes ex- tremely fond of these religious vola. On escaping from imminent danger at sea, on his return from Zealand, he solemnly dedicated his reign to the defence of the Roman Catholic faith, and the extirpa- tion of heresy. — The rigid punctuality with which he fulfilled his holy engagement was cause of la- 'luentation -to many of his subjects. K 5 i)-^ ESCURIAL. very serious inconvenience Monegro appears to have labored. — St. Laurence, tlie tutelary Saint of the Escurial, is said to have been broiled alive on a gridiron, in some year (no matter which) of the third century. Philip, in all the zeal of fanciful gratitude and most decided bigotry, determined to copy the probable shape of the gridiron on which good St. Laurence was so inhumanly martyred, in the ponderous edifice necessary to the fulfilment of his vow. — A vagary so strange perplexed the architect to the extreme ; but remonstrance was out of the question. He took a gridiron for his model ; and thus (mirabile dictu !) the most stupendous palace in the known world is positively built in the precise form of one of the meanest articles in culinary use ! Constrained to uniformity by this absurd restriction, Monegro formed various courts from the bars ; and, in compliment to regal splendor, he placed the King's apartments in the handle. Determined, if possible, to wear his Sovereigns fancy thread- bare, the artist proceeded on the broiling system even beyond the ne- cessity of obedience, and introduced sculptured gridirons, painted gridirons, iron gridirons, marble gridirons, wooden gridirons, and stucco gridirons. He placed gridirons over the doors, gridirons in the yards, gridirons in the windows, and grid- irons in the galleries. Never was instrument of martyrdom so multiplied, so cele- brated, so highly honored ! But whatever tendency to the risible this mode of construction may now excite in the spectator, it was far different with tlie amateurs of Pliilip's reign. Fanaticism forbade the existence of ridicule when the veriest tritie superstitiously reverend was implicated : — the people who could bow before the paring of St. Peter's nail, may be easily supposed ready to applaud the distinction paid to the culinary appendage of St. Laurence ! If the idea of so insignificant a model can be kept from the fancy of the beholder, no spectacle of art can be more strikingly superb to the first glances of approach than the Escurial. By some it has been said, in this instance, to as- sume the aspect of an immense quarry of stone, thrown into these fantastic shapes which only nature can form, and the complexion of which is varied with a thousand tints of brilliancy and beauty.* The chief front of the palace has tliirty-seven windows in breadth ; and measures, from end to end, exactly six hundred and fifty-seven feet. It is turned towards the * The stone is in fact unusually fine. Jts surface has a polish that would appear the result of laborioui art, and veins of blue and brown undulate over it in every direction. fe' ESCURIAL. 93 mountains, which are only at the distance of a hundred paces, and consequently it is dari< there half an hour before it is so at the back front, wliich commands a fine prospect that reaches quite to Madrid. The sides are four hundred and ninety-four feet in depth. There is a square toM^er at each end of the four corners, near two hundred feet in height. There are about four thousand windows, and eight thou- sand doors in this building; — one thousand, one himdred, and ten, of these windows are on the outside of the four fronts. The chief front contains three doors. Over the principal entrance are the arms of Spain, carved upon thunder stone, brought for this occasion from Arabia ; the carv- ing of which is affirmed to have cost si.vty thousand crowns. In a niche, a little higher up, guarded by marble columns, stands the statue of St. Laurence, in a dea- con's habit, a gilt gridiron in his right hand, and a book in his left.. This statue, which is fifteen feet in height, was executed by John Bat ^Nlonegro,* and is of the beroqxiena stone, except the head, feet, and hands, which are of marble. Directly over the door are two enormous gridirons, in stone basso relievo. Through this door is entered a large court, at the bottom of which is the Church, which has five doors. Over them are placed six statues, each of seventeen feet in height. They ^\ere made by Monegro, and, like the figure of the patron Saint, are of stone, but with heads, hands, and feet of marble. They represent six kings, of Judah, their crowns and other insignia are of bronze, gilt. The church is built with a cupola, eminently bold and light, after the model of St. Peter's at Rome ; and on each side is a tower with chimes. It is to be lamented that the choir is so obviously ill-placed as to render the internal effect of the church extremely obscure. — Here are two hundred and sixteei> choral books, in folio, writ- ten on parchment, with exceedingly fine miniatures. But the circumstance that chiefly conduces to render the church an object of curiosity is the crucifix placed over the altar. This is well known to be the finest crucifix extant, and is the pro- duction of the celebrated Be«we/2zle pile as his present Majesty, The Castle consists of two courts, or wards, between vvhich is the Keep, or Round Tower, usually termed the Middle Ward. The circumference of the whole Castle, according to Langley's admeasurement, is 4 1 80 feet ; tlie length from east to west 1480 feet; and the area, exclusive of the Terrace Walks, about 12 acres. The upper Ward is a spacious quadrangle, formed on the Avest side by the Hound Tower ; on the north by the state apartments, St. George's Hall, and the Chapel Royal ; and on the east and south sides by the private apartments of their Majesties, and those of the junior branches of the Royal Family. An equestrian statue, in WINDSOR CASTLE. 113 bronze, of Charles II. ornaments the centre of the square. Tliis statue was erected in the year 1680, and is dedicated, by one Tobias Rustat, " to his most gracious master, Charles, the best of Kings." The Tower (or Middle Ward) is built on a considerable elevation, in the form of an amphitheatre. The ascent into the upper apartment is by a flight of 1 00 stone steps, at the top of which is planted a piece of cannon. Seventeen pieces of cannon are mounted round the curtain of the Tower, which is the only batteiy now in the Castle. The apartments of this Tower belong to the Constable, or Govenior.* The lower Ward is far more spacious than the upper, and is divided into two parts by the collegiate church, or chapel, of St. George. On the north, or inner, side are the houses and apartments of the dean and canons, minor canons, clerks, verger, and otlier officers of the foundation ; and, on tlie south and west sides of the outer parts of this court, are the houses of the alms, or poor, Knights of Windsor.f The chapel of St. George is built on the site of a chapel founded by Henry III. Some remains of the ancient building may be seen on the north side of the Dean's cloisters, and at the east end of the chapel, behind the altar. When King Edward III. rebuilt the decayed edifice, he dedicated his new structure to the Virgin Mary, and St. George ; but the building raised by the third Edward sinking in its turn, King Edward IV. founded the present magnificent pile, the original architect of which was Richard Beauchamp, bishop of Salisbury. The work was not completed till the reign of Henry VIII.: the beautiful roof of the choir was put up in the year 1.508. Sir Reginald Bray succeeded bishop Beauchamp in superintendance of this * The office of Governor is of great antiquity and honor. The first Governor, who was appointed by William the Conquerer, under the name of Caitellan, was Walter Fitz-other, ancestor of the Earls of Plymouth, who from that circumstance took the appellation of De Windsor. The Archbishop of Canterbury was selected for that office by King John. The Earl of Cardigan is Constable at present. t This charitable institution owes its origin to Edward III. who intended it exclusively for the benefit of military men fallen to decay. Their number was originally 24, but afterwards increased to 26, to correspond with the number of the Knights of the Garter. The houses for the poor Knights were built in the reign of Queen Mary. The present number of Knights is 18. The annual income of each Knight is about .£50 a year, exclusive of a dwelling-house. Mr. Samuel Travers, who died in 1728, directed seven decayed naval characters to be added to the poor Knights of Windsor. A suitable building has been erected for their accomaiodation. 114 WINDSOR CASTLli. extensive work, and was a liberal contributor to several parts of the fabric. The rood loft, and lanthorn, were erected in 1516. The present organ gallery, and skreen at the west end of the choir, have been lately erected. The stalls of the Knights-companions, which are very richly carved in wood, exhibit the names and arms of the different personages by whom they have been occupied. The painted windows are well executed. The stone roof is an excellent piece of ^^■orkmanship. It is an ellipsis, supported by ancient Gothic pillars, whose ribs and groins sustain the whole ceiling. Different devices embellish the various parts of this costly roof. The choir, which is separated from the body of the church by the organ gallery, is a part of tlie structure raised by Edward III. Various minor chapels, founded by illustrious persons, occupy different parts of the building. At the east end is an edifice called the Tomb House, built by Henry VII. and intended for his burial place, before he erected that magnificent structure adjoining Westminster Abbey, w hich goes by his name. This building, being then unai)pro- priated, was granted by Henry VHI. to Cardinal Wolscy, who began to erect there a most sumptuous monument for hiu)self. The design of this monument, \\h\di was never finished, is said to have exceeded in splendor that of Henry VH.* Benedetto of Florence had received 4250 ducats for what he had executed before the Cardinal's fall ; and the expense of gilding the part then completed, which was not more tlian half, is said to have amounted to c£380. King Charles I. is reported to have de- signed this chapel for the burial-place of himself and family. The civil war, how- ever, frustrated this intention. The fate of the King is \vell known, and the unfi- nished monument was demolished by the Puritans.f In the reign of James II. the building was fitted up as a chapel for the celebration of Divine Worship, according * The Monument is described, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, as " consisting of white and black marble. Eight large brazen columns were placed round it, and, nearer the tomb, four others, in the shape of candlesticks." It was then thought that Queen Elizabeth intended to be buried in Wolsey's Chapel. t The depredations committed by the popular party were very extensive at this period. In the year 1642 the ornaments and vessels belonging to the chapel of St. George, and appropriated to the use of tlie altar, amounting to 3580 ounces of wrought plate, were seized by the parliamentary forces under Captain Fogg. WINDSOR CASTLE. 115 to the rites of the Roman CathoUc church. \'errio was employed to paint the ceil- ing and walls. This chapel remained in ruin and neglect, till the year 1800, when it was repaired hy order of his Majesty. A minute descrii)tion of each apartment in this regal Castle is foreign from our purpose, and would be much too extensive for our limits. Suffice it to say that many noble productions of the arts, worthy the selection of the Monarch of a great country, are here assembbd. In addition to numerous specimens of the ancient schools are to be seen some of the best works of modern masters, the subjects of which are judiciously expressive of the stories connected with the building. The celebrated historical pictures of tJie embarkation of King Henry VIII. at Dover; his interview with Francis I. of France ; and the battle of the Spurs ; together with a picture of King Henry Vlll. and his family, have lately been removed from Wind- sor, and graciously deposited by his Majesty in the meeting room of the Society of Antiquaries. Some of the most valuable pictures from the Queen's house, in St. James's Park, have been recently removed to Windsor. Among these are Guide's Venus attired by the Graces; a well-known Holy Family by Rubens ; King Charles I. on horseback, with the Duke D'Epernon ; another of the same Monarch sitting with his Queen ; and a family piece of his children ; all by Vandyke. His Majesty is about to remove his library also (supposed to be the most complete ever formed by an individual) from the Queen's house to Windsor. No Monarch, since the time of Edward, has, perhaps, effected greater alterations in Windsor Castle than his present ^lajesty ; and certainly no alterations have been executed with so much taste. The incongruous innovations of Charles II. have been noticed. With the judicious agency of James Wyatt Esq. Surveyor General of the Board of Works, his Majesty is restoring to the castle some resemblance of its ge- nuine character, without neglecting that desirable convenience of arrangement, which Gothic architects were accustomed entirely to overlook. The interior has likewise ex- perienced considerable improvements, and received various superb embellishments, executed with the same attention to coalume. Some idea of the chief ornaments and curiosilies formerly contained in tlie Castle^ may be gathered from the following passages, transcribed from the writings of a foreigner in the reign of Queen Elizabeth : " There are worthy of notice here two bathing rooms, ceiled and wainscotted with looking glass; the chamber in which Q 2 116 WINDSOR CASTLE. Henry VI. was born ; Queen Elizabeths bed-chamber, where is a table of red marble with white streaks; a gallery every where ornamented with emblems and figures; a chamber in which arc the royal beds of Henry VII. and his Queen; of Edward VI.; of Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn; all of them eleven feet square, and covered with quilts, shining with gold and silver ; Queen Elizabeths bed, with curious coverings of embroidery, but not quite so long or large as the others ; a piece of tapestry, in which is represented Clovis, King of France, w ith an angel presenting to him the flairs de lis, to be borne in his arms; for, before tiiis time, the Kings of France bore three toads in their shield, instead of which they afterwards placed three Jieurs dt lis on a blue field. This anticjue tapestry is said to have been taken from a King of France, while the English weve masters there. We were shewn here, among other things, the horn of a unicorn, of above eight spans and a half in length, valued at above c£ 10,000. The bird of paradise, three spans long, and a cushion most curiously wrought by Queen Elizabctlis own hand." How interesting a contrast to these insignificant particulars is presented by the performances of art and letters now collected in the venerable castle! Vandyde and West occupy the places possessed by the bird of paradise and unicorn's horn; while even the cushion, " most curiously w rought by Queen Elizabeth's own hand," is equalled, if not eclipsed, by the works of elegant taste, produced by those Prin- cesses whose pursuits are an honor to their country. We have endeavored to give, in our plate, the most accurate representation of the Castle. It exhibits the north front, inclining a little to the east, and comprises the Star Building, the Gallery, what is called Blenheim Tower, from the circum- stance of its containing the Baimer presented by the Duke of JMarlborough, and the Round Tower, as seen from the Little Park. Perhaps this view is one of the most interesting, but it was deemed especially desirable as tending to perpetuate the ap- pearance of the original structure, previous to the alterations mentioned as taking place under the direction of Mr. Wyatt. The new Castle of Windsor certainly proves a very considerable accession of art to have taken place in the architectural character of the kingdom, during the four- teenth century. By remains to be seen of Norman castles, we may judge of the rude- ness of King William's structure. The ruins of Kendal, Knaresborough, and Pon tefract castles, and the present more perfect condition of Skipton, Cawder, and WINDSOR CASTLE. II7 Glamys (which were imitated from the Norman) show tlie deformity and inconve- nience of the fortresses erected at that time. What we have said of the building raised by Edward implies that it was not a regular fortification. The Round Tower had originally a strong wall and draw-bridge, but no moat was deemed necessary to the security of the exterior lines of the Castle. Where the wall of the outer ballium occupied its frowning site in the Norman castles, regal lodgings were placed by the confident Edward. Perhaps the building at Windsor was the first attempt in this kingdom to render the castellated character of edifice amenable to purposes of splendor and accommodation. In this respect, the Castle must ever be deemed a high honor to the memory of Edward. His fearless- ness of danger proves him to have been the father of his people ; and convinces us that he had obtained tlic love and admiration of all ranks by wisdom^ courage, and urbanity. When we recollect that in the Norman military architecture, the Avails were pre- posterously thick, that the apertures were either filamentary, or the arches .semicir- cular and supported by clumsy pillars, and consider the harsh, oppressive features of their designs, in which the picturesque was despised, and even the convenient neglected, we must own that M'yckham presented his country with a valuable speci- men of improved taste in his Berkshire castle ; but, still, it cannot be denied, that the building wanted the regularity easily attainable even in a military edifice. Wind- sor Castle, as left by \\'yckham, consisted rather of a town of towers, than a har- monious combination of embattled erections. The peculiar advantages of the site were calculated to display any military buildings to great effect. The extension of the Castle is princely and commanding. But we think that, with the munificent spirit of Edward to support him, Wyckham might liavc produced a building more consonant in its leading features, and therefore more striking in its general effect. Still it may be truly alleged that no hint at uniformity of structure existed to stimu- late the powers of the architect ; and it, certainly, is expecting too much to look for any thing bordering on perfection in a single effort of an infant art. The architects of the early centuries labored under great disadvantages. They were generally defi- cient in learning. The remuneration usually received was not calculated to pro- mote vigorous application, while the want of taste in their employers too frequently forbade the possibility of excursive experiments. Scarcely one architect had travel- led to examine the works of contemporaries or explore the remains of antiquity. lis WINDSOR CASTLE. It was on the interior of St. George's Hall, and tiie chapel, that all the delicacies of architecture then known were bestowed. Tlie former is allowed to be one of the finest rooms in F-urope ; the latter we have stated to have been rebuilt by I'.dward IV. but the original structure was, in all probability, worthy of the royal founder. It is natural to suppose that Edward was solicitous to do all possible honor to his patron saint, especially when it is considered that the chajjcl was chiefly devoted to the purposes of that splendid knightly institution \\\nch he had recently established. Specimens of the florid Gothic in sacred arcliiteclurc were not wanting to direct the genius and excite the emulation of the builder. We liavc, therefore, every reason to believe that the chapel of St. George, as erected by Wyckham, was a rival in taste, if not in magnificence, to the Abbeys of Glastonbury and Fountain, to the Cathedrals of Salisbury and York. The cause of the premature decay of this edifice is not stated. The situation of Windsor Castle is known to be one of the most delightful in the kingdom.* " From a high hill," says Camden, " which riseth with a gentle ascent, the castle enjoyeth a most estimable prospect round about; for, right in the front, it overlooketh a vale, lying out far and wide, ganiished with corn-fields, flourishing with meadows, decked witii groves on either side, and watered >vith the most mild and calm river Thames. Behind it, arise hills every where, neither rough nor over- high, attired, as it were, with woods, and even dedicated, as it were, by nature, to hunting and game." In addition to the testimony of Camden, we cannot refrain from copying that of the poet Denhani, who, though accustomed to panegyric, can scarcely be said to have overcharged the picture he has drawn of this beautiful spot ; " Windsor Ihe next (where Mars witli Venus dwells. Beauty with strength) above the valley swells Into my eye, and doth itself present. With such an easy and unforc'd ascent. That no stupendous precipice denies Access : no hoiror turns away our eyes. But such a rise as doth at once invite A pleasure and a reverence from the sight. * The charms of Windsor and the surrounding scenery appeared so striking to a royal personage, on her first visit to this place, that she is said to have exclaimed, " This is a palace, indeed." WINDSOR CASTLE." 119 Thy mighty master's emblem ! in whose face Sits meekness heighten'd with majestic grace. Such seems thy gentle height, made only proud To be the basis of that pompous load Than which a nobler weight no mountains bears. But Atlas only, which supports the spheres." Cooper's Hill. The forest dependent on Windsor Castle was formerly of much greater circuit than it is at present, extending itself into Buckinghamshire and Surrey,* and over the whole of the south-eastern parts of Berkshire, as far as Hungerford. The vale of the Kennet was disforested, by charter, in 122ff. Norden's map of the forest, taken in the year 1607, makes its circuit 77 miles and a half, exclusively of the liberties which extended into Buckinghamshire, the true limits of which he could not ascertain. It was then divided into 1 7 walks. The circuit of the forest, as des- cribed in Rocque's map, appears to be about 56 miles. A portion of Bagshot Heath is in the forest ; the greater part of most parishes within its limits is in culture. The great Park formerly contained 3800 acres, the major part of which his Majesty has now devoted to experiments in agriculture. The Little Park, on the north and east sides of the Castle, which in Norden's time consisted only of 280 acres, was enlarged, and inclosed with a brick wall, by King William III. It now contains about 500 acr^s. The ground on the north side, which was laid out as a garden by Queen Anne, has been since converted into a lawn. In this park stood the celebrated Heme's oak, immortalized by Shakspeare, in the i\It rry Wives of Windsor. The progressive fortunes of a town so immediately dependent as Windsor on the residence of the Sovereign, can scarce fail to be considered a subject of curiosity. — New Windsor was declared a free borough by King lid ward I. in the year 1276, who granted various privileges to the burgesses. They were incorporated by Ed- ward IV. King Charles II. gave the corporation the manor of Underore, within the limits of the borough. The Market-cross (aft(;rwards destroyed in the civil war) was erected in the year 1380. The Guildhall was built in \6ii6. * The forest on the Surrey side of the Thames included Cobhani and Chertsey : and, following the course of the river Wey, extended up to the town of Guilford. 120 WINDSOR CASTLE. Windsor was for a time the county-town under the charter of King Edward I. So many inconveniences arose from its remote situation, in regard to the greater part of Berksliire, that the assizes were removed to Reading, in consequence of petition, in 1314. It appears, by a record lately discovered in the Tower, that the King (Edward II.) had, in the first instance, given a decided negative to the petition, declaring that he would have the county-gaol in no otlier castle than his own. The borough sent two burgesses to Parliament in the reign of Edward I. The number of inhabitants in \555 was only 1000. Tlie number in 1801 was 3461. An act for paving the town passed in 158,5. We have already given a brief review of the historical incidents associated with tlie ancient fortress " de Windesor." Those which stand connected with the present building demand a more copious detail. The reign of Edward III. is remarkable in our annals as that period in which the dawn was visible of a change in the fonn of the constitution, and in the general cha- racter of the people. From the increase of commerce, the value of money, as a substitute for mere military strength, began to be understood. In consequence, the King dispensed with a great portion of that persona/ service in war vvhicli had usually been exacted by former monarchs, and which had proved the great bane of their authority. By the judicious regulations of Edward, all the orders of the state acquired a dependence on each other. The result was a coalition of strength which increased the energies of the whole. From this change of government a change of manners naturally arose. Mutual confidence took place of distrust and reserve. The Baron no longer sat immured in his castle, or appeared abroad surrounded by vassals cased in iron. A spirit of so- ciability and splendor pervaded the upper walks of life, while the inferior classes began to feel their consequence in the scale of society, and to taste, for the first time since the establishment of monarchy, the sweets of rational freedom. An alteration so important was not likely to be effected without some correspon- dent evils. It could not be expected that mankind would instinctively possess talent to join pertinacity of morals m ith the novel charms of elegance and gallantry. His- torians represent the kingdom as plunged, at this period, in extreme licentiousness. " Nothing," say they, '"' was more common than to see the high-bred damsels of the land riding in troops to tke tournament, dressed like cavaliers, with daggers sus- pended from their girdles, their horses adorned with rich trappings, and themselves WINDSOR CASTLE. 121 behaving with more than masculine effrontery. " It must be remembered, however, that these historians were — monks. The character peculiar to the middle ages, joined with the natural vent of his mind, readily induced Edward to direct the dawning spirit of refinement evident in his subjects to the embellishment of chivalry. " In the year 1343," says a precur- sor in the pleasing task of characterizing the pursuits and court of Edward, the King had great purposes to effect, which could not wait for the tardy operations of architecture. He had listened to the tradition of Arthur, his magnanimous prede- cessor, with rapture, and he was determined to make the inclinations of his heart coincide with the schemes of his policy and with the designs of his ambition. The glory of the future part of his reign depended on the gallantry and wisdom he dis- played at this early period. " The court of the young King \\ as at the time frequented by some of the most powerful nobility of Spain, Italy, Flanders, Germany, and France ; he was prepar- ing for a war with the ancient rival of his kingdom ; after the liberty of the subject had been protected by the confirmation of Magna Charta, and the commerce of the country had been promoted by tlie establishment of the woollen manufactures, his thoughts were fitly directed to the exterior : the arts of negotiation were now to be employed, and it was expedient Edward should place himself on a footing of equa- lity with the distinguished foreigners at his court, to obtain all the advantages of personal treaty; he therefore proclaimed in his own kingdom, and throughout Europe, a tournament at Windsor. Young as he was, he had already occupied the throne sixteen years, and the fame of his politeness and munificence was advan- tageously contrasted with the sullen perfidy of Philip. It was the pride of chivalry to appear at this exhibition. An amphitheatre was run up, in the style of the Ro- man buildings of this kind prior to Statilius Taurus, and the knights assembled dis- tinguished themselves by feats of arms, the King mixing himself in the tlirong, bearing the device of a white swan, and this familiar challenge on his shield; ' Hay, hay I the white swan. By God's soul, I am thy man !' The active and dangerous amusements of tfie joust were .succeeded by the hospi- tality of the feast. In imitation of the reputed founder of tlie castle, a round table R 122 WINDSOR CASTLE. was introduced, that prince and subject, native and foreigner, naight join in tlie conviviality of the hour witiiout distinction ; and it is probable that during these festive moments the foundation was laid of England's future greatness ; for, while the curiosity and admiration of Europe were yet attractetl by the far-famed splendor of tliis tournament, the battle of Cressy was fought, and the town of Calais taken. " The victory of Poictiers placed John, surnamed the Good, King of France, in the hands of the Black Prince: from his native soil he was conveyed a prisoner to this country,* and, with the King of Scotland for his companion, occupied a part of Windsor Castle, as a prisoner of state to the English throne. All who are versed in the history of those times are acquainted with the misfortunes and the virtues of that prince. When Demetrius Phalereus, driven from his country, was in the power of the Egyptian court, he solaced his days of misery by improving in know- ledge and virtue the mind of King Ptolemy. It seems highly probable that the afflicted John assuaged the violence of grief by a similar exercise of wisdom and benevolence. Every friend of social order and happiness is acquainted with his manly exclamation, ' Though faith and truth were banished from the rest of tlie world, they ought nevertheless to be found in the mouth of kings.' " The College of the Order of the Garter is held at the Castle; the chapel of St. George, and the Chapter-house, were founded by Edward for that purpose. Windsor, according to Sir John Froissard, about the beginning of the sixth century, was honored with the institution of the I\Iensa Rotunda of King Arthur. In imita- tion of this establishment, as appears from Rastel's Chronicle, Riciiard I. at the siege of Acre, sanctioned this incorporation, and twenty-six knights, who fiinily adhered to him, were distinguished by thongs of blue leather tied round the leg. What was left unfinished was completed in the nineteenth year of Edward III. " The noble fraternity then instituted is the most ancient of all the orders to which the laity are admitted, being half a century prior to the French Order of St. Michael, eighty years to that of the Golden Fleece, and about two centuries to those of St. Andrew and of the Elephant. " Two hundred years after the date of this establishment we' find a strange story given in Polydore Virgil, about some Countess of Salisbury, or Pembroke, who * Holinshed states that the King was allowed his parole, and permitted to take the diversions of hunl« ing and hawking. WINDSOR CASTLE. 123 having dropped her garter at a public assembly gave occasion to the motto adopted by the founder. The story is in itself so facetious, and the spirited reply so conso- nant with Edward's character, that we do not wonder at the credit it obtained. Our best antiquaries have, however, abandoned this conjecture ; and, on looking into the laws of the society, we find it by no means supported. It is not improbable that on the glorious day of Cressy a garter was employed in some way as the signal of battle, and Jience this distinction of the knights became not only a symbol of their union, but a commemoration of that important victory. " Peter the Great of Russia, much nearer our own times, was not more sensible of the tendency of public exhibitions to soften and refine the manners of his ferocious clans than our Edward of Windsor, w ho revived the tournaments with extraordinary splendor. Letters of safeguard were delivered to the niost accomplished foreigners, and females of remarkable beauty were appointed to superintend on these festive oc- casions. In England this romantic amusement was first practised under Stephen, about the year II 40; but it was not usual until the reign of Coeur de Lion, when it was celebrated, ^ith some magnificence, in the tilt-yard in St. James's. It was said by Chiaoux, in the time of Charles VIII. ' If this contest be in earnest it is too little; if in jest too much;' and his remark was recollected, with painful impres- sions, some time afterwards, when Henry II. of France was killed in the tilt exhibited at Chalons. " If occasional mischief occurred in these practices, tliey contributed greatly to polish the manners of the times, and to soften the rancour of national prejudices. Tlie politic Edward proclaimed, in tlie year 1358, the most magnificent tournament that was ever given the country. It was solemnized at Windsor, at the feast of the Knights of the Garter, at that time usually distinguished as the Knicrhts of St. George. The benefits of Wyckham's industry were now experienced : a vast number of nobility, native and foreign, were convened, and accommodated within the pre- cincts of the Castle. The Duke of Brabant, and several soverci and at its expiration the master gives the slave his liberty, and marries him. No distinction of birttv prevails, and the emancipated slave often rises to much consequence in the nation. The utmost extent of slavery is fixed by Mahomet at nine years. 150 SERAGLIO. We stopped to contemplate three of them who struck us by their beauty, and the tears wliich they shed. They were tall, well-made, and scarcely fifteen years of age. One of them, with her head and left arm resting against the wall, vented sobs which wrung us to the heart. Nothing could divert her from her profound grief ; her companions, leaning the one against the other, were holding each other by the hand while we surveyed them. They cast on us looks which doubtless expressed their regret at having lost their liberty, at being torn from the arms of a too-cruel father and mother ; at having been 'sepaiated, perliaps, from those with whom love and hymen were to unite their fate. The traders, imbued with ridiculous prejudices, fear the mischievous looks of Christians and l.'Airupcans. A woman cannot be seen by them without being depre- ciated, without running tlie risk of being aftccted by their malignant influence. Be- sides, these female slaves, still Cluistians, may, according to these traders, fall sud- denly inlovcMith a man of their own religion, and attempt to make their escape. They likewise fear that the too great affliction into which the slaves are plunged by every thing that recals to their mind recollections extremely dear, may occasion them to fall sick, or bring on a melancholy that may affect their health. The building has nothing remarkable, and docs not correspond with the beauties of the caravansaries, which it resembles in point of form and construction, nor with that of most of the basars of the capital. You see a suite of small naked chambers which receive the light only by a door, and a little grated window placed on one side. It is into one of these rooms that the unfortunate creatures who belong to the same trader are crowded. There it is that each waits till fate throws her into the hands of a man young or old, mild or passionate, good or bad, in order that she may become his wife, or his concubine, or wait on the women of his Harem." Notwithstanding the numerous poetical touches in the foregoing extract from M. Olivier, it will be evident that many circumstances exist which ameliorate the con- dition of those slaves retained by the Turkish court, and are calculated to lessen the emotion of regret witli whicli we contemplate their fate. They have, in general, been separated from their connexions at so early a period that filial or social aflection cannot be supposed to have taken deep root in the most sensitive bosom. The greater part have, likewise, been />w?T/i«.ve he found his countrymen quite suffi- ciently disposed to enjoy the pleasures of refined luxury, but in want of an arbiter to methodise their inclinations. It is to the credit of the Romans always to have pos- sessed a predilection for scenes of nature, and rural pursuits.* All the Campagna was a garden, and Lucullus solicited by his example, the more elevated of his fellow- citizens to raise monuments of art amid plains conspicuous for the bounty of nature. It will be recollected, that the Romans affixed no peculiar name to their country seats. The most costly houses, were, therefore, designated by the appellation of the * The simplicity of the early Romans is evident from the character and circumstances of Cincinnatus; In those bright days of the republic which immediately preceded its downfal, both warriors and states- men were accustomed to derive their most estimable pleasures from country retirement. Augustus and his successor passed every hour, which could be spared from.public business, at one or other of their re- cluse villas. The same fondness for the country pervades the Romans of the present day. Some regularly pass the month of May in the country; but, in October, the cities are sure to be deserted. This migration is called gf^ing into yUleggialura, and 'n anticipated by nearly all classes as the season. of freedom and fes- tivity. The yH/egginnti assume habits adapted to their rural enjoyments. A perpetual succession of parties takes pince j and thus, even from childhood, the Romans are accustomed to blend with every notion ot joy, the idea uf a residence in the country. 224 MONTE CAVALLO. district in ■which they were placed. Thus, Uie favourite villa of LucuUus was deno' minated his Tusculamim. The degree of liberality bestowed on the extent, and the refinement of taste displayed in the arrangement of the structure are not to be ascer- tained by the moderns. The coinparative splendor of the edifice was great ; but Rome was then a stranger to that magnificence of domestic building with which she shortly afterwards became familiar. It does not appear that either Pompey, Julius Coesar, or Mark Antony, were remarkable for the number or splendor of their villas. Lucullus first set the fashion of varying both the locality and construction of a residence, in attention to the fluctu- ating vicissitudes of season. " When Pompey blamed Lucullus," says the tastefiil writer before quoted, " for making his villa at Tusculum totally unfit for a winter ha- bitation, though so delightful for summer, on account of its galleries, apartments open on every side for the difierent prospects, airy walks, and lofty terraces, Lucullus smiled at his not recollecting that he had other dwellings for that season, and asked him why he thought him less provident than the cranes and storks, which change their climate accordins; to the seasons r"* But architecture, originally borrowed by Rome from the Tuscans, and afterwards improved by a connexion with Greece, shone forth in all the splendor of maturity under the auspices of Augustus. Although that great monarch studied simplicity in his domestic arrangements, and himself inhabited an unadorned dwelling while raising prodigies of art in the imperial city, his courtiers appear to have profited by the ex- ample of Lucullus, and to have exhibited a rivalry of munificence in regard to the construction of their palaces. The villa erected by Mecrenas, and afterwards bequeathed by that refined politician to Augustus Cagsar, may be quoted as a specimen of the prevalent taste in respect to country mansions. " The substructions of this villa are to be seen on the side of a hill to the north ; they consist of vast rooms, and arches, through which passed the road called Via Valeria. " Above these foundations, as may be easily discovered from the remains, were two rows of columns, one of the Doric, and the other of the Ionic order, which * Considerable fragments of building have been found in the district between Marino and Monte Por- xio, on which inscriptions witli the name of Lucullus have been traced. Who can reflect on this cir- cumstance without wishing to rebuild the mansion in all its splendor, and to reseat at the convivial table Lucullus, with his illustrious guests Caesar, Cicero, Pompey, and Crasius? MONTE CAVALLO. 22.5 formed two porticos round tlie i\hole of tlie building, whence the view of ancient Latium, as far as the sea coast, to the south ; that of Sabinato the west; to tlie north the hills which screen the valley ; and to the east an extensive plain with the leni- tories of Prcencate, Tusculum, and Gabia, must have rendered this villa peculiarly delightful in point of situation. " Between these two porticos were chaniljers, in which tliere does not appear the vestige of a window, and they could only have received light from the doors which opened into the portico. In the centre of the villa was an edifice of considerable height, w here Mccaenas resided with his family."* The chearless custom, to be noticed in tlie above account, of excluding all light, except that casually admitted at doors, was probably derived from the frequent unhealthiness of the air in the Campagna. Still, it betrays a poverty of resource in the architects of the Augustan age, which is truly surprising, considering how domestic a people the Romans of that period have ever been esteemed. jMecienas and his family resided in an edifice elevated in the centre of their extensive building, on account most likely, of the advantage to be derived, in point of prospect from such a place of abode. Yet the insulated tenement inevitably reminds the reader of the donjon-keep retained by the English chieftain of the Feudal ages for himself and his suspicious family. Tliat the ancient Romans were an enlightened, as well as a potent race, must be apparent to every man who contemplates their remahis (re- mains in which science and art shine with inimitable lustre, even amid ruins !) That wit, likewise, illuminated the party graced w ith the presence of a Cicero, and elegance the society in which C'jesar bore a part, are circumstances equally unquestionable. And yet we are strongly tempted to doubt whether the ancients knew the meaning of the term domestic comfort r Rural prospects, surveyed from porticos of marble (each pillar an exact model for successive ages) convey the most flattering images to the reader's mind ; and plane trees nurtured by goblets of w ine astonish the imagi- nation, and persuade us into a belief of the former inhabiUints of Latium being the only people w ho truly knew how to enjoy life with luxuriance yet, if wc follow these superior mortals to the bed-room, or the familiar apartment, v.e find them insensible * Description of Latium, Sec. 226 MONTE CAVALLO. to particulars reckoned in less polished climes, among the ordinary embellishments of existence. Dr. Snii)llett is well known to have maintained that the ancient Romans were, in many particulars, less deserving ot" encomium than is usually apprehended. Sterne persuaded the world to laugh at Smollets remarks, as the mere productions of petu- lance and distaste, but stili some observations made by Smollet remain incontrover- tible. Waving a minute discussion of the subject, the Romans were certainly as Smollet asserts, a dirty people. " When Heliogabalus," writes tlie doctor, "ordered all the cobwebs of Rome, and the suburbs to be collected, they were found to weigh ten tliousand pounds. This was intended as a demonstration of the great number of inhabitants, but it was a proof of their dirt rather than their populosity. Horace, in his description of the banquet of Naxiedenus, says, when tlic canopy under which they sat, fell down, it brought along witli it as much dirt as is raised by a hard gale of wind, in dry weather." This prodigious accumulation of filth creates little surprise, when we find how few windows were possessed by the noblest mansions, and that those few were so situated as to throw only partial beams of light on the lower divisions of the apartment. But if interior neatness were neglected, it is certain that a sublimity of outward grandeur was attained. Superb villas were spread over all the picturesque parts of the Campagna, and aided by Vitruvius,* Augustus filled the city of Rome with splendid buildings. From the time of Augustus to that of Alexander Severus,t mag- nificent edifices continually increased among the Romans. Nor were triumphal arches and votive temples (though on these peculiar pains and expense were be- stowed) the chief objects of emulation with the Romans of those ages. The house of each patrician was a monument of art and splendor. • Vitruvius was, assuredly, the greatest of Roman architects. He enjoyed the confidence of Augus- tus who immediately perceived the full value of his genius. Vitruvius tells us, in the preface to his first book, " de architectura," that Augustus had placed him beyond all fear of poverty. It is worthy of observation that the literary work of Vitruvius though produced in an age so conspicu- ously eminent for lettered refinement, is written in a low and harsh style. + In point of architecture, from the time of Vitruvius to that ofNico (the father of Galen) a period ot nearly two hundred years. MONTE CAVALLO. 227 Nero was sensible only of extravagant delights and unusual beauties. His palace of gold* conveys tlie idea of Asiatic voluptuousness, rather than Roman grandeur. Still, the poitico of this dwelling, which consisted of three rows of pillars, and ex- tended to the length of a thousand paces, proves that the architect was capable of eliciting magnificence from simplicity, if allowed to follow the bent of his own genius. The most interesting remains of ancient domestic building are those of the villa erected by Adrian in the neighbourhood of Ponte Lucano. This emperor, who as- cended the throne in the year 1 17, wished to concentrate in one palace the refinements of the various countries which he had visited. " Egyptian learning, Grecian ele- gance, and Asiatic splendor, were here employed to recal to his own mind, and give an idea to the Romans, of the scenes which had excited his curiosity. His buildings and plantations appear to have extended about six miles in circumference. " Historians tell us that Adrian's villa was divided into seven parts. 1st. The Lyceum ; 2d. The Academy ; 3d. The Prytaneum ; 4th. Egyptian canopus ; 5th. Poecile ; 6th. The valley of Tempe, and Elysian fields ; 7th. The infernal regions. " The principal gate appears to have been towards Ponte Lucano, whence there was a paved road which led to the villa ; much of it still remains, and beside it are considerable vestiges of buildings. On entering the gate, there is a high wall to the right, with a great number of apartments, called by the people of the country, Le cento Cameixlle, where they suppose the horseguards who attended on the Emperof were lodged. " The next place appears to have been the Pcecilc. These are remains of a dou- ble portico and seats : the space was divided into two areas, 800 feet in length, and * On fiuishing this building, Nero is said to have exclaimed, " now at last, I have a house that a man may live in." The walls of the palace were covered with plates of gold, and adorned with jewel*. The dining-hall was of the most sumptuous construction, and was contrived to turn round, so that the prospects might be varied for the amusement of the luxurious guests. From concealed pipes in variotu parts of the palace, scented balsams are said to have issued, which filled the air with voluptuous fra- grance. Now, it is curious that the modern Roman ladies are naturally averse from every thitig that is perfumed. So potent is this physical peculiarity, that they will frequently faint on the entrance of a stranger who has inadvertently used perfume in his dress. Either the ladies are altered in point of phy- tical organization, or Nero was indeed completely ungallant. c c 2 '218 MONTE CAVALLO. about a tliinl in breadth. Adiiaii, who prctenilccl to be a great philosopher assem- bled learned men in this portico, and several apartments adjoining to it were dedi- cated to the prosecution of their studies : there was a temple near it, in which have bten found statues and beautiful marbles. " ('lose to this is an oval space, where was also a portico; and, in tlie midst, a tetnpic of octagonal form, with a fountain. Jiounti the temple, alxjve the columns, was a frieze atlorned with elegant has reliefs. " At a small distance are the ruins of a library and of a large garden ; and, on the neighbouring eminence, a theatre witli porticos. Forty statues, and many fine pave- ments, were found here. " In the southern part are the remains of cold baths and therms, Mith thedifl'ercnt apartments belonging to them ; such as dressing-rooms, and galleries for wrestling and walking, ornamented with marble, stucco, and painting. Next is the academy, and a circular temple dedicated to Apollo and the muses, with habitations for the priests and ministers. " This district of the academy has remains of numberless schools and houses for the accommodation of the students. " The Lyceum presents ruins of magniricent edifices, m ilhout end ; here were .vi^stus; aiid porticos for the peripatetics, temjxles, and groves. " The part called Canopus has a temple dedicated to the Egyptian Neptune. At. the back of it is a gallery, the roof of which has paintings still icmaining ; the steps which led to the upper parts are also to be seen, and the concealed room where tl)e oracles ^^ere pronounced : this temple is at the end of a valley, which, from the ruins of buililings on each side, and the channels which appear to have l)een cut out, for the introduction of water, evidently seems to have been the Naumachia,* where Adrian used to celebrate games in honor of (^anopus. * Dr. Smo'ilet, speaking of ihe Naumachia, or nnval engagements of the Romans, says, " their gallies I suppose, were not so large as common fisiiing smacks, for they were rowed by two, three, and four oars of a side." The dimensions and construction of a vessel, used in the Nauraachias by the Emperor Claudius, were accurately asreriaiiied by Pope Pius II. a circumstance of which Sn)ollet does not appear to have been informed. Pius II. wrote about the year I46l. In his time, a vessel was found sunk in a lake formerly used as a theatre for the Naumachia by Claudius, of which he gives the tollo.vi'ig account : '' The hulk was composed of larch wood, tiiree fingers thick ; the outer part daubed over with bitumen, and over this was added a silken stuff", with sheetsof lead, so well fastened down with brazen nails, the MONTE CAVALLO. 229 " Towards the west is another valley, on the side of which is a place called Korea Brufia* Antiquaries have supposed that this was the spot where the Emperor meant to represent tlie infernal regions. " Not far from thence "was the valley of Tempe, with the Elysian fields. " The Pri/trificmn was at the southern extremity, antl was built in imitation of that of Athens, which was a court of justice, with dwelling houses for the judges and officers belonging to them/' From the ruins of this immense range of buildings various statues and cuiiosities liave been retrieved ; among which may be noted the sleeping figure sold to the late King of Sweden; three mosaics representing a combat of centaurs and wild beasts ; and the mosaic of the famous pigeons, supposed to be the performance mentioned by Pliny as the »vork oiSocus, acelel)rated artist oi Pergamiis. The villa of Adrian presents a splendid specimen of the wealth and genius of the Emperors. We no longer find simplicity and a love of nature the leading features in the Roman temper. Riches, and extensive travel, had destroyed that acute sensibili- ty whicii induced the Romans, two centuries back, to deem a view of the picturesque Campagna the most desirable object that nature or art could afford. Yet, if tlieatres, temples, and the naumachia,. took place of those elegant porticos of Lucuilus, which opened to the verdant undulations of natural scenery, a splendid correctness of taste is still visible in the palace of Adrian. The arts were, evidently cherished with a purity of devotion by that powerful ruler. Nothing gaudy has been discovered in his favorit-e edifice. It exhibits the elegance of the citizen, elevated to the dignity of the Emperor. Respecting the modes of building prevalent among the ancient Romans, it remains to be observed that they possessed an art unknown to modern time.^, — that of building with free-stone without mortar, in so skilful a way, that the stones almost appeared to have been cemented together. It is imagined by many, tliat they iiad a mode of heads of which were gilded and close together, that no water could enter : the inner part, th.-it no fire might consume it, was, after a layer of bitumen, coveved with an incrustation m.v.le of a mixture of iron and clay, and that of an equal thickness to the wood within. Tiie keel and body, divided into their different parts, appeared conip.ncted in the same manner: the length not less than 20 cidils, and the Ireadth in proportion." * Admitting that this is, as antiquaries suppose, the spot intended by A^lrian to represent the infernal regions, it is singular ili.it the noviciate of the Jesuits should formerly have possessed it ! C230 MONTE CAVALLO. polishing the stones to increase the power of cohesion. The Roman mortar, so generally supposed to be mixed in a peculiar manner, is asserted by some writers not to have differed in any material point, Iroui that used by the moderns. The sujK^^rior quality of the sand in Rome is affirmed by these travellers to cause the excellent qualities obsei-vable in the mortar. Kotzebuc observes, that the Roman builders pour water upon recent erections (quite contrary to the custom in the north, where it is necessary to protect walls newly built from the wet) and that thb application has much efficacy in hardening the cement. The accession of the church to territorial authority forms a new epoch in the histoiy of Roman architecture. The first generations of ecclesiastics who tenanted the palaces of Rome, were remarkable for any thing rather than for judgment in the fine arts. During the same periods, the Campagna was inhabited by haughty barons, and their servile dependents. Convents and monasteries, (insensible to most orna- ments, except the pious carving of the cross) supplanted tlie beautiful temples of the heathens ; and what was gained in sanctity was certainly, for a time, lost iti art and science. But even the castellated mansions of the Roman barons were illumined by some lingering portions of native taste. The political circumstances of the age enforced the adoption of u)ilitary rudeness in some mansions, while religious zeal rendered the founders of others careless of those arts which were unconnected with the rites of Christianity ; but Rome was not calculated for a long continuance of so barbarous, or lethargic a torpor. Contention paused ; all religious difference bowed to the supremacy of St. Peter's successor; and the arts joyfully resumed their dominion in their favorite clime. Relieved from the first degrading stagnation of surprise. Religion became the patroness of art.* Painting was now called to the embellishment of the altar, and the splendid creations of architecture were found potent auxiliaries to the cause of religious feiith. In regard to the splendor of sacred buildings, the Christian Romans certainly excel the " heathen" inhabitants of the city. A parallel between the various churches of • It would be deemed fanciful to suppose, that the invention of painting in oil was the consequence of tlie great want of pictures to assist in perpetuating the martyrdoms and histories of the Christian faith ? and still more so, were we to venture to surmise that the general demand for religious books, encouraged the discoverer of the art of printing to perfect his method of disseminating lettered information ? MONTE CAVALLO. 231 the modems, and the temples of the ancients, Mould be highly gratifying, if circum^ stances permitted the discussion. In this place, we are obliged to rest contented with observing on intelligent authority, that the temple oi Jupiter Capitol'mus would not bear a comparison with tlie church of St. Peter- In point of extent, the difference is obvious. The temple was two hundred feet in length, and one hundred and eighty- five iu breadth. St. Peter's is six hundred and thirty-eiglit feet long, and above five hundred feet wide. The architecture of this church is worthy of tlie highest praise. It was difficult to gratify the love of ornament observable in the moderns, without quitting that dignified simplicity of the ancients, which studied effect through a beau- tiful symmetry of parts, and a graceful intermixture of light and shade. Yet this object appears to have been achieved ; and St. Peter's stands the proudest rival of antiquity which modern Europe is enabled to present. But domestic architecture is, at present, the chief object of our inquiry, and here we must premise the great disadvantage under which every spectator views the edifices of modern Rome. The streets of the ancient city were narroM^ but squares were left, in which public buildings were placed, and from which they could be seen with facility and effect. The ancients wisely considered the point of prospect as a neces- sary appendage to the beauty of the structure. This precaution appears to have arisen from the scientific simplicity of the means through which their architects wished to elicit admiration. Insensible to the magnificence of a ichole, and studious to win applause from a minute delicacy of parts, the modern builder is indifferent to the extent of area, and his erection is placed, accordingly, in obscure corners, and amidst a crowd of incongruous objects. Modern Rome, throughout its variety of splendid buildings,* supports the propriety of the assertion; and, owing to this circumstance a most unpleasing veil is thrown over its greatest architectural beauties. Tliose palaces of Rome, and villas of the Campagna, which owe their foundation to recent periods, are both numerous and superb. A princely liberality of scale is observable in the more important structures. The Romans were ever fond of the vast and magnificent. In this respect the moderns vie with tlie ancients. But comfort and convenience have been overlooked by both. I.,ong ranges of apartments, in which no * The church of St. Peter may, perhaps, be said to form an exception to this remark ; but even St. Peter'* lies at a distance from the well-inhabited part of the city; and to survey the building to advan- tage, a person must stand close to the colonade. 232 MONTE CAVALLO. desirable recess for domestic relaxation couid be possibly discovered, formed the chief habitable parts ot the villa of Alecaenas, and 0/ the palace of Adrian. The same observation applies to every modem building of importance in Rome. The apart- ments are numerous beyond comparison, and they are of just proportions, and of a noble size ; but each immense hall is cold, cheerless, and inhospitable. The man- sion seems formed for state, and not for friendly intercourse. The interior oftlie apartments is frequently heavy ; for the modern, like the ancient Romans, appear to have a marked dislike to the free admission of liglit. The Roman architect no longer endeavors to make each part subservient to one great point of observation. Every subordinate division has its separate concentration of beauties; and ornament is multiplied, to the utter extinction of all sublimity of general character. A central court (in imitation of the Peristyle of the ancients) is usually formed in modern Roman palaces, round which is arranged a s[)lendid colonade, surmounted by an open corridore. The stairs are often narrow, steep, and high ; the tloors frequently consist of brick. , The academies and tlicatres of the ancients, are in vain looked for in edifices of the later periods ; but tlie galleries devoted to the tretisures of art are of magniticent dimensions, and occur in every eminent palace. Here are assembled the noblest productions of taste and ingenuity ; these need no fresh eulogium ; — the whole European world unites in tlieir praise. Among those extensive buildings of recent date with which Rome abounds, Monte Cavallo, the residence of the Pope, maintains a respectable place, though palaces may be readily found, in many divisions of the city, more estimable in regard to beauty as well as magniticence. For upwards of a thousand years, the Popes inhabited the palace of Laterano.* They then made Avignon their residence. When Gregory XI. returned to Rome, (the due seat of the Papal government) the palace of Laterano was so much decayed, that he deemed it expedient to fix his residence at the Vatican, where his successors remained till a palace Avas constructed on Monte Cavallo. This structure is seated on the Quirinal mount. The access to the palace displays considerable grandeur. Opposite the chief entrance are placed tlie two celebrated * The modern Laterano palace (which is extremely magnificent) was built by Sixtus V. The Pope* never visit it, except for the purpose of taking possession. MONTE CAVALLO. 233 statues, supposed to be Castor and Pollux, each holding a liorse. From these figures tlie term Monte Cavallo is evidently derived. The two colossal images of the twin-gods are conjectured to be the works of Phidias and Praxiteles, the names of which statuaries are engraved on the pedestals. Tliey are generally imagined to have been brought to Rome from Alexandria, by Constantine the Great, though some assert that they were sent to Nero, as a present, by Tiridates, King of Armenia. Let antiquaries dispute the question. The statues are there, and are beautiful, which is sufficient for the eye of taste. When looking at a statue, or contemplating a picture, most men become critics: the connoisseurs have not failed to discover many faults in these excellent figures. One finds that the right hand of the statue, by Phidias, is larger than tlie left ; and that the left eye lies more deeply in the socket than the right ; but these hasty critics forget that the effect of perspective, for which the artist studied, rendered these disproportions necessary. Kotzebue says, " Why the artist should have made the horses so small,* I cannot understand. If their leaders should mount them, their legs would touch the ground." There exist strong reasons for believing that the horses are the works of a much more modem artist than Phidias or Praxiteles. Had Kotzebue been aware of this circumstance, his sensibility would have compelled him to praise the delicacy of the sculptor, who diminished the size of the horses to keep them on the back-ground of the picture. If he had designed them in the colossal proportions due to the size of the statues, f the work of the ancients would have been overpowered, and tlie eye would first have naturally rested on the least estimable part of the group. The sculptor, with admirable modesty, considered his share of the performance as merely calculated to identify the meaning of Phidias and Praxiteles. He placed horses on the pedestals^ only to exhibit the grace with which the arms of the statues were extended. It is observable that on the shoulders of the two figures there are holes, now filled up, in w hich iron bars were formerly placed, for the purpose of supporting a thatch, which covered the whole work. This practice was frequent with the ancients ; and, from the neglect of a similar precaution among the moderns, these beautiful statues are now decaying, under the influence of the seasons. * It will be perceived, from the plate annexed to this article, that the horses are out of proportion when compared with the human figures. The statues were placed before the palace by Sixtus V. f A man of the middle sise only reaches to the knees of the figures. H H j^24 MONtE CAVALLd. between the statues is placed an Egyptian obelisk, which is composed of red granite, and measmes forty-five feet, without the pedestal. It will be recollected tiiat the Roman emperors caused various obelisks to be conveyed from Egypt, for the purpose of adorning their race-groimds. It certainly betrays a uaht of sound judgment to place these curiosities in diflerent conspicuous situations, as embellish- ments to the city of Rome.* We cannot sufficiently applaud the magnificent notion of Kotzebue, v.ho, speaking of the obelisks, laments that they had not been placed, as mile-stones, in the vicinity of Rome, to inform the traveller through the Cam- pagna that he was approaching the grandest city of the known world ! The present palace on Monte Cavallo was founded by Pope Gregory XIII. towards the close of tlie sixteenth century. It has been embellished by many suc- ceeding Popes, and is much esteemed for the salubrity of the air in the neighbor- hood. The edifice is extensive, but boasts little grandeur of architectural composi- tion. No Corinthian capitals, nor porticos of marble, are to be witnessed in the main design of the building. All is simple and unostentatious, though massive and dins. In these minutes tlie student blends his speculations with the family views. He projects martial enterprises with the baron ... he wishes to bestow wings on the herald sent to some favored knight from the lovely dauglitcr (now wasted to dust in tlie chapel vault) . . . and joins in the benisons lavished by the good lady baroness' on the fair forehead of each child of promise. Few monuments of feudal grandeur are more dignified or interesting than the Castle, which has long been the favored residence of the Warwick family. This magnificent structure stands a little to the south of the town of Warwick, on a rock forty feet high, at the base of which flows the river Avon. In all probability, Ethelfleda, daughter of King Alfred, (who constructed many fortified recesses in various parts of the kingdom) was the actual foundress. The building at first consisted of a sinde tower on a mount.* In the time of William the Conqueror, Turchill de Warwick was keeper of the Castle. The fortifications were considerably enlarged, under the direction of Turchill. But the warden giving offence to the suspicious Monarch, he was displaced, and the Castle bestowed on Henry de NewburgJi, afterwards created Earl of Warwick. I'rom this period Warwick Castle became an object of consideration with the ruling power of the island, as is evident from the circumstance of Henry III. commanding Margery, sister and heir of the late Earl, not to marry without his consent, " that the Castle might not devolve to improper hands." In the fortieth year of Henry's reign, the majestic edifice was surprised by John Gifford, Governor of Kenelworth Castle, who razed the walls to the ground; but, in the forty-fifth year of Edward III. the dilapidations were repaired by Thomas Guy, Earl of Warwick, and the building again restored to the character of a potent embattled fortress. This Earl (whose gallantry and conduct were conspicuous in the fields of Cressy and Poictiers) was chosen to have the sole care of King Richard II. during the mi- nority of that sovereign. When he had fulfilled this task, he retired to his estate, and spent considerable sums in architectural pursuits. In the year 1394, he com- # * Supposed to be the same mount that itill remains on the west side of the Castle. WARWICK CASTLE. 245 pleted the twelve-angled tower, called Guy's, on the right hand of the Castle entrance ;* and constructed the body of St. Mary's church, at Warwick. In the reign of Edward IV. the fortress of Warwick was in the possession of the royal family, and occupied by George Plantagenet, the Kings brother; by whom very considerable additions v/ere made to the strength of the building. The Castle continued with the crown till Edward VI. created John Dudley, Earl of Warwick. On the attainder of tliat nobleman, the Sovereign again became proprietor of his fortified residence ; but Elizabeth gave the title and appendages to Ambrose, son of the late Earl, who dying without issue, James I. in the second year of his reign, made a grant of the building to Sir Fulk Grevile. At this period, the noble mansion exhibited one scene of vice, misery, and desolation. Its walls were quickly falling to unheeded decay, and the strongest apartments (once occupied by nobles, who were the pride of their country) were consigned to the purposes of a common gaol ! The correct taste, and liberal spirit of Sir Fulk Grevile, restored the edifice to its original splendor ; and, during the civil war, it was used as a gar- rison for the Parliament. In 1642, the Castle was besieged by Lord Northampton, and defended with great gallantry, by Sir Edward Peito. The activity of the besiegers succeeded in surprising the artillery and ammunition on the road for the defence of the garrison, but Sir Edward, Avith only one piece of ordnance, sustained the utmost fury of the assailants, and preserved the place till Lord Brooke, with the force under his command, arrived to its relief. Considerable alterations were efifected in the state apartments, by Robert, Earl of Brooke, in the reign of Charles II. The successor of that nobleman was created Earl of the Castle, in the tenth year of George II. from whom the title and estate descended to the present Earl of Brooke and Warwick. It will be evident, that the site of Warwick Castle was well adapted to the purpose of defence. It is also peculiarly estimable in a point more consolatory and engaging, — the prospects around are of the most picturesque description. The windings of the Avon, the majesty of ancient woods, and the gentle alternation of hill and dale, unite to charm and elevate the fancy. * This is the most elevated part of the building in our plate of Warwick Castle, The expense of kuilding this tower was 3951. 5s. 2d. 246 WARWICK CASTLE. The approach to the Castle is impressively grand. A devious, hollow waj', cut from the rock on which the Castle stands, denies all observation of the building, for tlie distance of a hundred yards. On reaching an abrupt turn, the mighty pile is suddenly disclosed ! Its embattled entrance, its subliuie towers, and its perilous moat' half concealed by the dark foliage of various trees and shrubs, present themselves at once to the admiration of the spectator, and compose the noblest instance of archi- tectural effect to be witnessed amongst the castellated remains of feudal magnificence- The double gate-way by which the visitor enters the area of the august dwelling, is flanked by embattled w alls, from which rise, at appropriate distances, lofty macliio- lated towers. That part of the edifice which is devoted to family uses by the noble proprietor, is splendid and massive, yet entirely devoid of all the gloom usually supposed inevitable to buildings originally composed for the purpose of defence, as well as for that of baronial magnificence. A great part of this agreeable chearfulness of aspect is occasioned by the judicious alterations effected by the present Earl. But, though the purposes of modern life have required, and obtained, a rejection of many of the ancient architectural peculiari- ties of the Castle, all possible respect has been paid to the characteristical marks of antiquity, where these did not positively interfere with the necessities of a refinement of habit. Thus, the antique and military rudeness of Guy's Tower is preserved inviolate ; and in many parts of the edifice, the Norman eyelet, adapted to the secure discharge of arrows, is retained, with a becoming delicacy of veneration. In the nineteenth century, when painting, poetry, and music, find admirers in the great majority of the affluent and ennobled, how much is it to be regretted that a just taste in architecture is confined to a comparative few ! The task would be ungracious, or we could readily point to noble possessors of ancient mansions, who have treated their forefathers with most unfeeling disrespect, in regard to the alteration of the seats which descended to them with their titles. From the practice of the iew w ho possess accurate judgment, as well as liberal desires, it is evident that the rude dignity of ancient magnificence, may be readily accommodated to the elegant urbanity of the most polished era, without destroying the apparent original character of the edifice. Assuredly the persons who do not profit by the bright e.samples held out by select men of taste in their own sphere, must be accounted more barbarous than those WARWICK CASTLE. 247 among their ancestors who first constructed buildings destitute of all apertures except loop-holes, and with passages suited only to the gloomy horrors of feudal suspicion ? The improvements lately introduced to the interior of Warwick Castle evince the same spirit with those alterations that have taken place on the outside of the august pile. Where the venerable relics of antiquity have in any instance been displaced, it is to make room for the still more estimable monuments of the arts. Many pic- tures of the first rank for execution and interest, grace the collection of the Earl of Warwick. In the anti-chamber may be particularly noticed a fine picture of Lady Brooke, by an unknown artist ; and a whole length portrait, by Vandyck of Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans,* so well known for her attractions and ill-fate. This unfortu- nate sister of Ciiarles II. was once reduced to so extreme a depth of poverty, that, according to Cardinal Retz, there was not a billet of wood in the house in which she resided with her mother, nor would the tradesmen give the forlorn Queen credit for one ! A gleam of prosperity shone on the head of the illustrious daughter ; but it was as transient as glittering ; and she was suspected to die through the operation of poison, at an early period of life. In the cedar drawing room are several excellent pictures by Vandyck, ■{■ and a Circe by Guido. Amongst many fine paintings in the gilt room, the spectator will unavoidably ad- mire a whole length of Ignatius Loyola, founder of the society of Jesuits, by Ru- bens. The sublime animation of countenance, and the striking intelligence of eye, to be remarked in this picture, tempt the beholder to suspect that Rubens bestowed fallacious grandeur on the physiognomic character of this pious soldier. If he reject that supposition, he cannot but lament that the bigotry of the times should have made a * Granger could not have seen this painting. Speaking of the Duchess of Orleans, he merely »ay»j " there is a portrait of her at Dunham, the seat of the Earl of Stamford, by LargiUiere. There is ano- ther at Amesbury ; and a third by Pettitot at Strawberry Hill." t It is impossible to repeat many times the name of Vandyck, without recollecting his sordid love of money. He frankly confessed that, in the early days of his life, he painted for fame, but in his later years, for " the kitchen." It is said that a lady for whom he entertained an ardent passion applied to his skill for a portrait of herself, and that Vandyck disputed with her concerning the price ! He charge«l sixty pounds for a whole length, and forty pounds for a half. 248 WARWICK CASTLE. religious Enthusiast of that man who possessed the indications of a mind capable of the noblest undertakings. In the dressing room, is a half len brenniiig of Mild fire, peynted and castelled with paper and samblable M'aste," occu- WARWICK CASTLE. 255 pieJ its place. — Is it only, then, in periods of barbarism that we are to look for the existence of what we term ancient English frugality? But, with the plain cookery of their predecessors, the English of the fourteenth century appear to have banished a great portion of the intemperance which disgraced earlier periods. The spirit of chivalry had taught the youthful knights to respect the beauties to whom their prowess was dedicated, and romantic gallantry happily supplanted the joys of the inordinate revel. Dancing, in these ages, first enlivened the vast halls of the baron's residence. In addition to which, the lengthened mime, the masquerade, and pageant, all contri- buted to promote an attention to females, and thereby to ameliorate the manners and elevate the character of the nation. Though a fondness for the sports of the field was still deemed one of the most honorable indications of nobility, gallantry now first acquired power to arrest the avocations of the sportsman, and to compel him to study painting, music, and poetry, as the surest means of attaining the object of his wishes. The solitary tower could no longer answer the purposes of the enriched. Their disgnisings, dances, and theatrical pageants, demanded spacious halls; and the tournaments which at- tended every period of festivity caused the area of the Castle to be extended beyond its former apprehensive bounds. How venerable are the mansions, still tenanted by the gay and potent, which once witnessed the enjoyments of an Edward's reign ! — Let us hang tl)e immense halls with antick tapestry, and suppose the hour of festivity at hand ! The baron takes his place, while tlie usher seats the more elevated of the guests, in due rota- tion^ above the massive salt-cellar of silver which divides the visitants of quality fronx those who boast no title to a share in the familiarity of the dignified chieftain. The banquet ended, the guests adjourn to the hall set apart for dancers. And, now,, what grotesque figures assemble on the spot we are contemplating ! The gallant knight, relieved from the weighty armor which encased his form at the battle o£ Cressy or Poictiers, appears " with long pointed shoes, fastened to his knees by gold or silver chains ; hose of one color on one leg, and of another color on the other ; a coat one half white, and the other half black or blue ; a long beard ; a silk hood, buttoned under his chin, embroidered with strange figures of tmimals, dancing men, &c. or, perhaps, ornamented with gold, silver, and precious stones." The gallantrj 256 WARWICK CASTLE. of the knight so decorated, is carried to a painful extreme. He hands his mistress to the dance with idolatrous reverence, and would probably saciilice on the spot any miscreant who by accident trod on her foot. It is curious to note the attire of this adored beauty. She wears a party-colored tunic, one Imlf (like the coat of the beau) being of one color, and tlie other half of another. Her hair is dressed, in a pyramidal form, to the height of three feet above her head : from the pinnacle of this fearful elevation hang long streamers of silk, «hich sweep along the ground. Her girdle is ornamented with gold and jewels, and exhibits the alarming appendage of a short sword or dagger. The usher now summons the guests to the tale of the minstrels, or the wonders of a pageant. Here are mimicked the horrors of the deluge, or, perhaps, the barbarous actions of Pontius Pilate. But, if a more spoitive humour prevail, the hour is dedicated to disguisings. Each knight and courtly damsel assumes the garb of rural or foreign life, while bursts of appropriate music elevate the spirit of the scene. Such was the aspect of a baron s castle in the reign of Edward HI. and, in many particulars of this retrospective picture, we behold the germ of some excellence in art or manners which lias suice risen to maturity, and ornamented the character of our country. On the accession of Sir Fulk Grevile to the gratifying honors of Warwick Castle, the ancient fortress became the theatre of tame, but exquisite, domestic enjoyment. Barbarous revelry, or gaudy dissipation, had hitherto been the pursuit of those who commanded within the ponderous walls. The " Augustan age of literature" had now arrived. The social virtues moved in the train of lettered intelligence, and a chas- tened gaiety, less noisy but nearer to the heart, took place, in the nobles family, of tumultuary banquettings and the half-serious contests of the festive joust. The machio- lated towers, and embattled gate-wayof tlie Castle, were now regarded only as ttie elo- quent memorials of a former day. In a word, the Castle, for the first time, possessed a library ; and the softer graces naturally became inmates of the altered abode. Were we to attempt giving an account of all connected with the title of 'Warwick, whose actions would decorate the page of biography, we should be led into a detail of the chief events in national history. A few select characters unavoidably demand notice. — Of all those Earls of Warwick who bore away the palm of hardihood, in the WARWICK CASTLE. 257 days of eady contention, Richard Neville, that " whirlwind" of the land, as Camden figuratively terms him, is the most distinguished. The powers of mind, and the im- mensities of resource required in the man who was to pluck down Kings, or enthrone subjects, at his pleasure, combine to decorate the memory of this Earl, and to ren- der hiin one of the most august characters in the collection of historical portraits. We shudder while contemplating the picture, but he is so entirely the hero that all feel an interest in his success, and admire if they cannot applaud. In the earliest indications of turbulence evinced by the Duke of York, Richard, Earl of Warwick, appears as a zealous friend of that " father of Kings." The cle- mency constantly exhibited by the Duke, in his ambitious enterprizes, is well known. Of this clemency the Earl of Warwick is entitled to a share ; and it should be recol- lected to his lasting honor that throughout the whole disastrous war of " the Roses," we find none of those deliberate cruelties attached to his name, which were so com mon with the major part of the leaders on both contending sides. It has been as- serted by many historians that he A\"as concerned in the murder of Earl Rivers and Sir John Widvile (father and brother to the Queen of Edward IV.j but Dr. Henry justly observes that, " there is the clearest evidence that King Edward himself enter- tained no such suspicion ; for he constituted the Earl of Warwick, immediately sub- sequent to that event, chief justiciary of South Wales, and gave him several odier offices of power and trust, which he assuredly wo.uld not have done if he had sus- pected that Warwick had any connection v\'ith rebels who had murdered his own father and brother-in-law." The " grey, uncrowned head" of the meek Henry was certainly treated by him with an undue want of veneration. When this shadowy monarch w as betrayed into the hands of Edwai'd, and conveyed to London, he was met at Islington by the Earl of Warwick, who caused his feet to be tied to the stirrups of his horse, " and behaved to him in other respects with great indignity." Proclamation was issued that no person should regard the forlorn prisoner with compassion, as he moved through the streets ; and when he arived on Tower-hill, he was compelled to ride three times round the pillory. But this was so far from an age of generosity, that the negative merit of abstinence from bloodshed, may be almost pronounced a positive virtue, in those who obtained absolute power over a formidable opponent. Ingratitude does not appear to have been one of the failings of Edward W. He i. L 258 WARWICK CASTLE. treated his great auxiliary, WarMick, with tlie respect due to the friend who had so ably assisted his elevation to the crown. Tlie insolence and aggrandizements of the nexv family of the Widviles, alone caused that disgust which separated the Earl fiom the interests of the infatuated monarch. Warwick, however, appears to have been friendly to the alliance of Edward, till the assumptions of the Queen's family passed the bounds of moderation. It was between the Duke of Clarence and this Earl that Elizabeth was led to the abbey church of Reading, when the King declared his mar- riage, and the Earl of Warwick stood godfather to the daughter named after herself. At the commencement of the year 1468, Warwick remained so favorable to the court, that tlie Lady Margaret rode behind him through the streets of London, pre- vious to her departure, for the purpose of being married to the Duke of Burgundy. But the Earl's life was dedicated to domestic trouble and haughty contention. He could not brook the increasing arrogance of the Queen's relations, and formed those plans of vengeance which rendered the whole nation parties in a private disscntion. It appears that the romantic story of Edward being taken prisoner by Warwick, and sent to his castle of IMiddleham, in Yorkshire, from whence he made his escape through the indulgence of his keeper, is altogether erroneous. This strange tale is supposed, by a more sober writer, to originate in the following circumstance. Be- fore Edward commenced his march against the rebels under Sir Robert Wells, he •' paid a visit to George Neville, Archbishop of York, at his house of Moor Park; tod, xchen washing before slipper, he received private notice that a hundred men at arms were ready to seize his person. Alarmed at this notice, he went suddenly out of the house, mounted his horse, and rode off full speed to Windsor." The following instance of ingratitude must have irritated to the extreme the lofty mind of Warwick, ^^'hen the Earl, and his new ally the Duke of Clarence, were compelled to quit the country which they had so fatally embroiled, they sailed, with their families, and most valued friends, for Calais, the governor of ^^ hich place was a creature of Warwick's raising, and who owed his appointment entirely to the Earl's authority. The most pressing circumstances required an immediate landing. The Duchess of Clarence was in labor, and destitute of assistance. But the miscreant pointed the guns of the fortifications against his benefactor, and Mould not suffer a single person to disembark. Tew circumstances could be more remarkable than the commencement of a friendly WARWICK CASTLE. 259 intercourse between Warwick and tlie object of his most bitter antipathy, Queen Afar- garet. But that connection soon produced fresh wonders, among which was the ab- rupt transition of Edward from the throne of a f>otent monarch to the dependance of a poverty-stricken fugitive! It is well known that when this prince landed, in 1470, at Alcmar in Friezeland, he had not sufficient money in his pocket to pay for his passage in the trading vessel which had conveyed him ! When Warwick first ventured on a war against Edward, he certainly intended to place the Duke of Clarence on the throne ; but more mature reflection convinced him of the miconquerable difficulties attendant on this scheme, and he married his daughter Ann, to the young Prince, son of Henry and Margaret. The chief mo- tive that linked the \iorthless Clarence to the interest of his father-in-law (for ties of relationship are trivial with the ambitious) was evidently the hope of mounting the throne through his means. The chagrin occasioned by his disappoiutuient, in diis particular, readily accounts for the eagerness witli which he listened to the overtures conveyed from his brother, through the means of a female, whose conduct appears to have been most skilful, but whose name is not known in history. It was the glory of this Earl (and the triumph was not small, considering the adventurous days in wliich he flourished) to live a " King-maker,'' and die a hero. The battle of Barnet will be recollected to have terminated his life of vicissitude. A mist (supposed, at the time, to have been raised by a celebrated magician) caused an unhappy mistake which decided the fortune of tiie day. The device, or badge, worn by the followers of Lord Oxford, w as a star with rays, both on the front and back of their coats. This gallant band had driven their opponents from the fields and were returning to assist their friends, when they were attacked by the Earl of Warwick's men, who mistook them for a body of the enemy, a sun with rays, being a device worn by Edward's party. Oxford suspectbg treachery, fled Mith eight hundred of bis partizans, and all on Wai'wicli's side became confusion and dismay. The Earl knew how to die, as v\ell as to conquer ; he rushed into the thickest of his foes, and fell, covered with wounds. The history of these ages resembles romance in the quickness of its transitions, and the extremities of fortune experienced by those who form its chief characters. The misery of the great Warwick's family, after the honors of his house perished with him in the field of Barnet, almost exceed belief. The Countess of Oxford, L L 2 26-0 AVARWICK CASTLE. sister to the late Earl of Warwick, was reduced, according to Stow, to the necessity of earning a wretched livelihood by her needle ; and the Lady Ann Neville (relict of the late Prince of Wales) was certainly found, some months after the battle, dis- guised in the habit of a cook- maid! 6Vr Fiilk Grevile, Lord Brooke, the great restorer of Warwick Castle, was one of tlie most distinguished men of the era in Mhich he lived. The inscription on that monument which his Lordship caused to be erect', d during his life-tiuic, is not more compendious than it appears to be honorable to his memory : " Fulk Grevile, servant to Queen Elizabeth, Counsellor to King James, and friend to Sir Philip Sidneij.'' It would be difficult to bestow a greater eulogium, than to describe a man as possessed of integrity and good sense to obey the wishes of a wise prince ; of knowledge and discretion sufficient to the counselling of a weak, yet head-strong monarch ; and of so great a renown for accomplishments and probity, that he was the chosen friend of the most refined and virtuous character of the age. It was the happiness of this distinguished Lord to live in times which called forth none of those tragic passions which make a character appear gigantic, because they exhibit its casual deformity, and which, therefore, captivate the vulgar reader of the biographical page. The " still, small," virtues of domestic life would be deplorably tame if mimicked on the stage ; and are admired only by a few, when detailed in history. And yet, are they the noblest excellencies of the bosom. Away with the drum and trumpet of historic legend! That quiet page, which, says Sir Fulk Grevile, improved the literature and polished the manners of his country, w hile his heart and wit were so equally estimable, that he was the select friend of the man w hoin all Europe applauded and admired, speaks more to his credit, than would the detail of a hundred victories, or the inflated narration of a long train of gaudy actions, performed in all probability, for the purpose of exciting noisy admiration.* Every hour that Lord Brooke could snatch from more imperative avocations, was devoted to literary pursuits. The works of this nobleman are much more estimable, as compositions, than the generality of tlie performances of the age. The * Lord Orford certainly does not allow its due share of praise to the character of Sir Fulk Grevile. His Lordship had made up his mind to wrile down Sir Philip Sidney, and, with great injustice, he extended the attack to the celebrated " friend" of that excellent scholar and accomplished gentleniau. WARWICK CASTLE. 26 1 versatility of his genius will be evident from tlie following list of his works : — " A vei-y short Speech in Parliament." — " The Life of the renowned Sir Philip Sidney.'" — " Sir Fulk Grevile's Five Years of King James, or the Condition of the State of England, and the Relation it had to other Provinces." — " A Letter to an honorable Lady, with advice how to behave herself to a Husband of whom she was jealous.' — " A Letter of Travel," containing Directions to a Relation then in France. — " Coelica," a Collection of ]09 Songs. — " A Treatise of Human Learning," in loO Stanzas. — " An Inquisition upon Fame and Honor," in 86 Stanzas. — " A Treatise of Wars," in 68 Stanzas. — His " Remains," consisting of Political and Philosophical Poems. — " M. Tullius Cicero, a Tragedy (disputed)"— " Alaham, a Tragedy." " Mustapha, a Tragedy." We must not forget to mention, that his Lordship evinced the liberality, as well as taste of a Mecaenas. He was the admirer of Camden's genius, and the patron of his labors. Robert, Lord Brooke (whose doublet is still preserved in the armory of Warwick Castle) was thrown on the " darkness and dangers" of " evil days." At that dread- ful period of our national annals, when the love of prerogative led an otherwise ami- able monarch to forget that the people might likewise be fond of privilege ; and when the peculiar tenets of a mob of religious Enthusiasts tended, on the other hand, to the inculcation of wild, chimerical notions of independance ; there were found, among the more elegant part of the nobility of England, some individuals who glowed with ardent wishes for the happiness of all classes, and M'hose most tiervent desires centred in genuine patriotism. Amid these, the dignihed names of Falkland and Brooke stand pre-eminent. Both indulged the same honest wish, though difterent views of political propriety (so natu- ral and common a circumstance in such a tempestuous season) led them to exhibit their zeal for national prosperity in dissimilar niodes. Weary of the disputes and interested machinations of the times, the virtuous Lord Brooke resolved to fly from the distracted cabals of his harassed country, and seek an honorable tranquillity in the wilds of America. In this determination he was joined by Lord Say, and the two noblemen had actually taken measures to remove themselves to New England,* whea a sudden gleam of hope, produced by one of * In 1635 the two Lords sent Mr. George Fenwicke over to New England to prepare their retreat- This emissary caused to be built, in a recluse and beautiful situation, a small town, which was calleU. in allusion to the names of the founders, Sayhrook. 262 WARWICK CASTLE. the many strange vicissitudes of the period, induced Lord Brooke to join in the en- deavors of those wlio desired such a permanent and equitable bond, as was hlcely to produce mutual security, to be ratified by the King and people. The great interest of this lord, enabled him to inspire the county of Warwick with his own sentiments, and to prevail on it to declare for the parliament, which then professed only the intention of rectifying the oppressive errors of the state. At tlie head of a considerable body of patriots, he advanced into Staftbrdshire, and direct- ed his {)ower against Lichfield. It was on the festival of St. Chad, to whom the cathedral of Lichfield is dedicated, that his Lordship commanded his ti'oops to storm the close adjoining the cathedral, to which Lord Chesterfield, with a number of the opposite party, had retired. But, while his men were advancing for that purpose, their leader received a musket shot in the eye, and died immediately. The Roman Catholics did not fail to aver, that this shot was discharged by St. Cliad, as a punish- ment for the impiety of the mortal who dared to use hostile measures near a cathe- dral, on the day consecrated to the recollection of that Saint's piety and virtues. But those who seek for causes with a less elevated imagination, know that the hand of a common soldier eflected the death of this gallant and virtuous nobleman. Robert Lord Brooke was an elegant w riter, as w ell as a zealous patriot and a cou- rageous leader. His works, according to Lord Or fords catalogue, are; — "The Nature of Truth, its Union, and Unity with the Soul, which is one in its Essence, Facul- ties, Acts, one with Truth." 1640. " A Discourse opening the Nature of Episcopacy which is exercised in England." 1641 " Two Speeches, spoken in tlie Guildhall, London, concerning his INIajesty's refusal of a Treaty of Peace." 1642. " Answer to the Speech of Philip, Earl of Pembroke, concerning Accommodation in' the House of Lords, December 19, 1642." " Speech at the Election of his Captains and Com- manders at Warwick Castle." 1643. THE FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. HE inhabitants of Latium have ever paid particular attention to the purity of the water intended for ablution or nourishment, and have been seen in all periods, equally sedulous to procure an abundance of this refreshing element in every dis- trict of their possessions. " TIk chief object" says a judicious writer, " with the early settlers, was to find good water ; and this part (La Campagna di Roma) of Italy is plentifully supplied with the purest and most healthful streams. At first, those who wished to build, fixed on a spot where they could without further trouble, enjoy this ativantage. To discover where the water was best, and in greatest abundance, they not only availed themselves of the observations made on the instinct of birds and the anatomy of beasts, but from the trees, shrubs, and other vegetable productions, — from their growtii, quality, and numbers, — and from various other similar remarks, they Mere enabled to judge and decide with sufficient precision. Vitruvius, Pliny, and otlier ancient authors, give minute accounts of the means employed for tliis important pur- pose ; and we Jcnow there was a profession, the members of which were denominated Ifydrophantce, by the Greeks, and Aquileges by the Romans, whose business it was to examine the springs and rivers ; and who, Avhen a town was to be built, pre- sided over this branch of public utility, as the architects directed the labors of the workmen. Not only are the springs and streams of Latium crystalline and salubrious, but,. 264 FOUNTAIN OFTREVI. from the volcanic character of the country,* mineral waters and tepid baths arc found in almost every recess. Natural cascades abound in the u|)Und dis- tricts, which increase the beauty of the scene, and bestow a healthful coolness on the air. Tiie aqueducts formed the first of those three circumstances which, according to Dionysius, constituted the greatness of ancient Rome. They are known to have been fourteen in number, some of which conveyed water to Rome for the distance of fourteen miles, llie channels of these aqueducts were large enough to admit a man on horseback. When Rome was besieged by the (Joths, who had cut off the water, Belisarius fortified the aqueducts with works of peculiar strength, to prevent the enemy from entering tlie city by those conveyances. Water was considered a great delicacy at table by the ancient Romans. Through many centuries the females drank no other liquor. The baths, and the religious and political rites of the antients, must have rendered an abimdance of water absolutely necessary. Accordingly we find that the first aqueduct was constructed so early as the year of Rome 441. The Romans learned the use of warm baths from the Asiatics; but the climate of the Campagna, joined to certain peculiarities of clothing, must have rendered fre- quent immersions in cold water highly desirable, if not actually necessary to the native inhabitants of the great city, before triumphant excursions had led them to adopt foreign habits of efteminacy. During the fisrt stages of the republic, the Tiber probably aftbrded an easy mode of ablution to the hardy Romans. But, w hen they learned the art of decoration from the Greeks, and became emulous of renown for splendor in public buildings, baths were constructed, productive alike of individual accommodation and national magnificence. However delightful in theory may be the idea of Republicanism to the enthusiast in pursuit of human happiness, it is cer- tain, thatthe most splendid performances of art, are always found to occur duringthose * Rome was first built on a marshy plain, the fragment of an extinct Volcano. This circumstance evidently accounts for the story of the patriot Curtius and the yawning Gulph. The soil of the Com- pagna is indeed, wholly volcanic, though the climate is far from being unfavorable to health and longevity. Nature generally decorates the superficious of an extinct Volcano with captivating beauties. " The most antient of the Greeks gave the name of Elysium to every place that had been struck by fire from heaven, and they supposed burning mountains to have had the same origin." FOUNTArN OF TREVI. 265 periods in which power is concentrated in the hands of an individual. Where the reins of government are intrusted to many, various pursuits of family aggrandize- ment inevitably intercept every wish for national embellishment. One man becomes individualized with the country over which he presides, and the promotion of national art, tends to the immediate reputation of his own particular name. All human effort* are selfish : the stimulus of personal celebrity appears necessary to the exertions of every state-patron of the arts. Lateritimn invenit, marmorcam reliquit, was the praise applied to Augustus. According to the position maintained above, the reason is evident ; and, in addition to the motive of personal fame, must be mentioned the superior power possessed by the Emperor. Tributary thousands attended his call, for the employment of whom no responsibility attached to his government. The ThermcE Dioclesi(me£ are said to be tiie largest formed in Rome ; yet those built by Caracalla were, perhaps, more magnificent. The Thermae were divided into numerous compartments, and formed the places of fashionable resort among all classes of the people. Some were public institutions, in which no money was allowed to be received. Others were constructed by private speculators, and to gain admission to which each person paid a quadrans.* The bathing time was commonly from noon till evening, and notice (accoi'ding to Juvenal) appears to have been given by a bell, on the opening of the baths. Those who bathed at unusual hours, paid much more than the customary price for the freedom of the place. The writers who profess to give an account of the practices of the Thermae, gene- rally fall into the error of describing the manners of a particular period as those uniformly prevalent during every era ; though few circumstances could more entirely vary. Thus, in the more simple days of the republic, there were separate places for the two sexes, but under the profligate Emperors, all persons bathed indis- criminately. The baths of ancient Rome were places of general amusement. Fiom the fol- lowing description, a correct idea may be formed of the splendor of these buildings : " The Thermae consisted of a great variety of parts and conveniences ; the Nata- tiones, or swimming places ; the Portici, where people amused themselves with walking, conversing, and disputing together, as Cicero says, In porticibus dcambu- • About two-pence of our money. M M 266 FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. laiites disputabant ; the Basilica: , ^v■here the bathers assembled before they entered, and after they came out of the bath ; the Atria, or ample courts adorned with noble colonnades of Numidian marble and oriental granite ; the Ephibia, where the young men inured themselves to wrestling, and other exercises ; the Frigidaria, or places kept cool by a constant draught of air, promoted by the disposition and number of the ^^•indows ; the CuUdaria, where the \\'ater was warmed for the baths ; the Plata- nones, or delightful groves of sycamore; the Stadia, for the performances of the Athletcc ; the Extdrce, or resting-places, provided \\\i\\ seats for those that M-ere weary ; the Palestra, where every one chose that exercise that pleased him best ; the Gymnasia, where poets, orators, and philosophers recited their works, and harangued for diversion ; the Eleotesia, where the fragrant oils and ointments were kept for the use of the bathers; and the Conistcria, where the MTCstlers were smeared with sand before they engaged." The number of baths was very great. Publius Victor enumerates " sixteen warm, and eight hundred and fifty-six cold baths, besides sixteen thousand reser- voirs, and ponds where people might learn to swim." The private dwellings of nearly all classes of citizens were likewise cooled and embellished by artificial water-falls, and every house of consequence had a variety of baths. Seneca, it will be recollected, congratulates his philosophy on the cir- cumstance of his possessing only one bath, though a rich man. The modern Romans have no partiality for he salutary luxury of bathing. The baths of Caracalla and Dioclesian lie in unheeded ruins. Still, the Romans regard an abundance of water as the proudest boast of their city, and the numerous foun- tains of Rome form one of its most powerful attractions in the esteem of every visitor. " This abundance of water," says Kotzebue, " this vivid motion, this rushing aiid foaming, this countless multitude of Tritons and Naiads, who in almost every open place, are seen either throwing the water high up in the air, or pouring it in gur- gling streams from their urns, give an extraordinary appearance of life and bustle to the city, and in some degree make amends for, and relieve the eye from, the dulness occasioned by the want of inhabitants. The fountain Tcrviini, called likewise Aqua Feliv, is embellished with Christian sculpture : for here a Colossal Moses, with his wonder-working wand, causes the water to flow from a rock. The idea is certainly not amiss, if the concomitant objects had been in unison ; but it may be asked how FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. 267 came arcades and Ionic columns to stand so near this rock of Moses in the desart ? and why should the prophet give himself so much trouble, as Uvo beautiful lions of black basaltes (of Egyptian workmanship) are already emitting from their wide mouths thick streams of water ? " The water in the Fountain of the Campo Vaccino flows into an immense basin of oriental granite, which served for the same purpose in ancient times. The foun- tain Paulina surpasses all others, with respect to the abundant supply of water, w hich was first brought thither by Trajan. At present, it is splendidly decorated with arcades, columns, and an attic with water-spouting dragons and pompous inscrip- tions. The materials were taken from the ancient forum of Nerva. Bernini has overloaded the fountain in Navona's-place with an heterogeneous profusion of ornaments ; rocks, obelisks, sea-horses, lions, and the like. Here, too, are found colossal statues of the Ganges, the Nile, the Rio de la Plata, and the Danube. " The Fountain near the bridge of Sixtus is smaller, but incomparably more beautiful in its simplicity ; it is only a niche between two Ionic columns : but a broad undivided stream falls from a considerable height, first into a smaller, and then into a larger basin. The Tortoise Fountain in ]\Iattei-place is a pretty play- thing ; four figures of bronze are placing four tortoises on the edge of the basin, from which rises ajet-d^eatt. In Barbarina-place there are two Fountains by Bernuii ; //ere dolphins and Tritons squirting out water ; and thei^e even three bees, which are sitting on a muscle shell !" Such is the account given of the Fountains by a traveller, certainly possessed of considerable taste, though perhaps rather too much inclined to satirical animadversion. From Kotzebue's descriptions, the reader may form such a general idea of the present aquatic embellishments of Rome,' as may enable him to appreciate justly the merit of the architectural appendages to the Fountain of Trevi. The waters of this splendid Fountain are clear, pleasant, and salubrious ; and arc supposed, by the modern Romans, to possess the faculty of strengthening and revivify- ing debilitated constitutions. The Fountain is supplied by a spring termed Jgua Virgine, concerning which, the following legend is familiar with the inhabitants of the Campagna:— Some Roman soldiers, overcome with thirst, accosted a peasant girl whom they accidentally met, and requested her to direct them to a spot, where they might find water so cold, that it would instantly allay the anguish of a parched 268 FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. throat, and yet so salubrious, that the heated traveller luijiht drink of it with impunity. This rustic girl had discovered, in a sequestered nook, a spring of water so grateful and inspiriting, that she thought it likely to answer the wishes of the soldiers, if any water could possibly possess the combined qualities for which they expressed a desire. To this favorite spring she accordingly conducted them ; and the thirsty soldiers were so charmed with the draught Avhich gushed forth in luxurious plenty from the recess, that they informed their comrades of the secret treasure. The new spring soon attracted public curiosity, and Marcus Aggrippa* constructed a magnificent aqueduct, by means of which, he conveyed the stream of Aqua Virgbic to his immense baths in the city of Rome. The city was, for a long time, supplied with this famous water, the source of which is on the Salona estate, about eight miles from Rome. At length, eitlier by acci- dent or design, the conduits ■were ruined ; but Trajan caused them to be effectually repaired with all possible expedition. At that period, the Fountain was near the baths of Agrippa. During the ferocious incursions of the northern tribes, all that was great and venerable in the A\estern empire, shared in one conmion devastation. " Tower and temple" mingled in indiscriminate ruin, and to accident alone are the Romans indebted for those monuments of national art and glory, which survived the tasteless fury of the invaders. Among other works of splendor and utility, the aqueduct which supplied Rome with the pure water discovered to the soldiers by the peasant girl, experienced the barbarity of the conqueror, and w as completely destroyed. The regret of the Romans on this occasion may be readily a[)prehended, v\ hen we remem- ber the peculiar delicacy of their taste in regard to water, both for tlie table and the bath. Yet did the Romans suffer themselves to be deprived of the Aqua Virgine for many ages. It was somewhat more than a thousand years after the destruction of the aqueduct, tliat Nicolas V. a Pope who certainly deserves the admiration of pos- terity for his public spirit and the magnificence of his schemes, restored a conveyance for the stream, and constructed a copious Fountain. The solid benefit conferred on * M. Agrippa, " the son-in-law, friend, and favorite" of Augustus, is said to have formed seven hundred resL-rvoire, to have erected one hundred and five fountains, and one hundred and thirty ctstdia, or conduits in the space of one year. FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. 2f>9 the community by an action like this, cannot be too higlily praised. Vanity may lead to the elevation of an obelisk, and the love of posthumous celebrity, may prompt the erection of a pantheon ; but an aqueduct is calculated to pour unostentatious comfort into the cottage, while it supplies the baths of the palace, and, as such, entails the reputation of genuine patriotism on the head of him that forms it. The renovated Fountain received the name of Trivia, from the circumstance of it discharging itself into three places ; but the colloquial familiarity of the Romans soon altered the appellation to that of Trevi; the learned acceded to the wishes of the populace, and Trevi is now considered the due name of the Fountain by the lettered as well as the illiterate. There are few great works; which are, in the combined points of ornament and utility, the performance of a single hand. Nicolas appears to have been, in this in- stance, merely intent on adding to the convaiitnce of the Romans. It remained for another Papal ruler to embellish the undertaking, and to raise such an edifice as should induce the spectator to pause with delight before the Fountain, tliough he might be personally indifferent to the advantages derived from its waters. The character of Clement XII. does not occcupy a distinguished place for libera- lity in the opinion of mankind, yet this Pope repaired the aqueduct of Trevi, at an immense expense, and added the magnificent front projected by Nicolo Salvi. It is the misfortune of the ecclesiastical governors of Rome to attain the Pontificate only at so advanced an age that the cares of government are usually too mighty lor the in- firmities of nature, and the suffering Pontiff merely lays the foundation of structures which death prevents his completing. It was thus with the twelfth Clement. He fondly hoped to plant his fame on the ornamented front of Trevi, after expending vast sums on improving the aqueduct, but the fatigues of his elevated office were too weighty for his years, and he left it to the gratitude of posterity to remember, Avithout the sculptor's aid, that it was one of the great wishes of his Pontificate to advance the accomodation and increase the ornaments of the Papal cit}'. Clement XIII. iiappily inlieritcd tlie spirit of his predecessor. Under this Pope, the buililings of the Fountain were decorated with statues, and bassi-rilieri, together with columns of the Corintian, Ionic, and Composite orders. The Fountain joins to the palace of the Duke di Pali* the front of which is cha- racteristically enibelli.shcd to complete the display of the scene. * In this place uere some fine paintings. On the right of the Fountain is the oratory of St, ilary in Fie, famous for the picture on the altar representing the Holy Family. 270 FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. For the circumstances of our description we refer to the plate, and, considerinij the reader as a spectator, proceed to observe, that the figure in the centre represents Nep- tune, standing on a marine car, which is drawn by two sea-horses, guided by Tritons. The one of these groups is distinguished by Rage and Impetuosity : the other i? marked by Temperance and Tranquillity : a judicious method of expressing the well known character of the sea, a perpetual interchange bet\\ccn storms and calms. Bracci was the sculptor of these groups. The statue on the right of Neptune, re- presents Abundance ; and that on the left is figurative of Health : both were executed by Val/e. The basso-relievo on the right is descriptive of IMarcus Agrippa, in the act of contemplating a plan of the aqueduct, and was performed by Bcrgondi. That on the left perpetuates the story of the discovery of the spring; the girl is re- presented guiding the thirsty soldiers to the inestimable pool. This elegant produc- tion is by Grossi. Four statues surmount the columns. The first, bearing a cornu- copia, is by Corsini ; the second represents Fertility, and is by Luduviai ; the tiiird, with the grapes and bowl, symbolical of Autumn, was executed by Queirolo ; and the last, crowned with flowers, is the Mork of Plncoktti. (3n the top of the build- ing are the Pope's arms, supported by two Fames, the labor of Benaglio. From this assemblage of objects a very striking effect is produced. The plan of the building which forms a back ground to the chief emblematical figures of the Fountain, is grand yet chaste ; and displays a vein of architectural genius worthy of Rome in the brightest day of its reputation for art and taste. It is objected by some, that the whole composition is faulty, inasmuch as it is con- nected w ith the walls of a palace ; so that the spectator is perpetually tempted to suppose that the water issues from some of the compartments of the building. In re- ply to tiiese cavillers, it is observed, that on whatever spot Neptune stands, there he can produce a spring; and that the same objection would appear of equal force if the Fountain were seated in the midst of a large market place. Though the circuu)feronce of the Fountain was originally grand and comprehensive, it is to be regretted, that buildings have been suffered to accumulate in the neighbor- hood, to the exclusion of much of the effect of this rare gem of modern achitectural excellence. In an age like this, when Rome experiences the desolating consequences of a fresh subjection, her buildings remain almost her only boast. Among these, the FOUNTAIN OF TREVI. 2/1 decorations of the Fountain of Trevi will long excite the admiration of evei7 casual visitor. We may be well allowed the term casual, for Rome is only the mournful shadow of what she was. The queen of cities is fallen ! " Whatever" (observes a recent author) " venerable or sublime Rome could boast in the fine arts, has fallen into the hands of those, who, in ages of refinement and civilization, pillaged her with worse than northern ravage : Hoc fecere truces non Hunni, non Alemanni, Non duros cogens Totila ad arma Gothos, Sed Gallus, Brenno violentior, occupat arces. Raptor et in medio ponderat aera foro. France has now become the repository of the fine arts; and Italy, which had little before to invite attention, has now less. Her public buildings, her churches and pa- laces, still remain, but the paintings which decorated them, the altar pieces, and every other superb ornament have been stript away, and carried to enrich the Louvre. This " classic ground" will not, M'e believe, often again invite the curiosity of the traveller. It has frequently been alleged against Italy, that these arts contributed to her effeminacy and degradation ; and when the French pillaged Rome she was insult- ingly told so. If this deprivation, however, should produce the eft'ect of raising her to a level among nations, and inspiring her with a portion of her ancient spirit, it will be a gain that will amply compensate the loss of a Titian, a Raphael, an Angelo, and a Caracci. THE CASTLE OF CONWAY IN NORTH WALES, THE name of Conway Castle suggests poetical ideas : — " Lo ! Conway* still, in plaintive strain, renew* The woeful day that hapless Cambria rues. When o'er the frowning brow that crowns the flood. The hoary bard, with looks of horror, stood — Struck, deeply struck, the sorrows of his lyre. And ills unborn portrayed with prophet's fire— • Fix-'d on the flowing stream the frantic stare. And gave his tortur'd bosom to despair ; Then rush'd from life's accumulated woes. And in their pitying waters found repose." HE river Conway is, perhaps, for its length, one of the noblest streams in Europe. It extends but twelve miles, yet in the course of that progress, receives the aid of so many brooks and rivulets from the adjacent mountains, that it is enabled to sustain vessels of considerable burden. According to Camden and his early com- mentator, valuable pearls were formerly found In these waters. One is particularly noticed which weighed seventeen grains, " and was distinguished, on the convex side, by a fair round spot, of a Cornelian color, exactly in the centre." These pearls were usually found in large black muscles, denominated by the vulgar deluge-shells. * " On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood." — Gray. Tafiwin, called likewise Pen-5eirc/A, or the Prince of the Bards, resided near Conway. " I am Taliesin," says this venerable poet, " on the shore of the lake Geirionydd." CASTLE OF CONWAY. 373 The present Town of Conway, or Aber-Conway, sprang from the ruins of the ancient Conovium, mentioned by Antoninus, the remembrance of which is still pre- served by a small village called Kaer-Rhun, or Kaer-Heti, which term signifies the old city. The Castle owes its foundation to Edward I. though it is certain that the ancient Welsh Princes had an abode very near the site of the building.* It is not easy to ascertain the description of the original palace ; yet, from an account of the house- hold officers attached to the dignity of the mountain-sovereign, we may be enabled to form some idea of the construction of an antique \Vclsh residence of the first class ; and the subject is so curious, that we cannot refi-ain from enumerating the chief of these domestic attendants on insulated and ferocious princely splendor. The officers of the household, and twelve gentlemen, whose tenure of land was by military service, composed the royal guard, and were mounted on horses furnished by the King.f The master of the palace possessed authority over every person of the household. He received a share of all military plunder, and on three festivals of the year, was obliged to deliver the harp into the hands of the domestic bard. The domestic chaplain said grace, celebrated mass, and was consulted in all mat- ters of conscience. He was also secretary to the King, and to the principal court of justice. The stexvard of the household managed the inferior domestics, and received, as perquisites, the skins of all animals " Irom an ox to an eel" killed for the use of the kitchen. He drank, but did not eat, at the King's table ; and had the office of ar- ranging the servants in their proper seats in the hall of the palace. The master of the hawks was required to sleep near the birds : he had his bed in the King's granary, where they were kept, and not in the palace, lest they should be injured by the smoke. The King owed three semces to the master of tlie hawks, on the day when he took a curlew, a hern, or a bittern. He held the horse of * In the latter periods of the independency of Wales, the Princes usually resided at Diganwy, on the water of Conway, and at Caer Segont, near Caernarvon. t This small band appears the only resemblance of a regular force maintained at any period by th« ancient Princes. N N 274 CASTLE OF CONWAY. this officer while he took the bird ; held the stirrup •^^hile he mounted, and dis- mounted ; and that night honored him, likewise, with tliree different presents. The judge of the palace presided over the princi))al court of Wale?. It is said that he always lodged in the hall of the palace, and that the cushion on which the King sat by day, served the judge for a pillow at night. On his appointment, he received an ivory chess-board from the King. The tongues of all animals slaugh- tered for the household were presented to the judge of the palace. The master of the horse was lodged near the royal stables and granary, and it •was his duty to make an equal distribution of provender among the royal horses. The chamberlain was obliged to eat and sleep in the King's private apartment. If a person walking in the King's chamber at night, without a light in his hand, happened to be slain, the laws gave no compensation for his death. The domestic bard was obliged, at the Queen's command, to sing in her own chamber ; but in a low voice, that the court might not be disturbed in the hall. He accompanied the army when it marched into an enemy's country. An officer was appointed to command ailence. This he performed first by his voice, and afterwards by striking with his rod of office a pillar near which the do- mestic chaplain usually sat. The master of the hounds was accounted so important a personage (though nsuallv lodged in the kiln-house, where corn was prepared by fire for the dogs) that he was liable to be cited to appear before a court of judicature only before he put on his boots in the morning. The door-keeper slept near the gate-house, and was obliged to kneel when he en- tered the presence of the monarch. The cook always carried the last dish out of the kitchen, and placed it before the King, \vho immediately re\\'arded him with meat and drink. The sconce bearer held wax tapers when tlic King sat in the hall, and carried them before him when he retired to his chamber. The Queen had likewise numerous attendants, among whom may be noted : — The chaplain, who sat opposite to his royal mistress at table. The chamberlain, who " kept the Queen's ward-robe. His lodging was near the royal chamber, that he might be at hand when wanted." The xcoman of the Queen's chamber who " always slept so near her mistress a» to be able to hear her speak, though in a whisper." CASTLE OF CONWAY. 275 These, and the various other officers connected with the household, were all called together by the sound of a horn.* From this brief survey of the usual establishment of an ancient Cambrian Prince, it would appear, that though the construction of his abode was simple, it was not altogether inconsequential. Indeed the rerenue of the Princes appears to have been somewhat disproportionate compared with the resources of the country. The inha- bitants of Anglesea, for instance, had been in the custom of yielding one thousand marks annually to the exigencies of the Welsh government, but Edward, on conquer- ing the country, readily admitted the exorbitancy of the contribution, and reduced it to the yearly sum of four hundred and fifty pounds. It may be also observed, that the ancient Princes were at little personal expense in the erection, or embellish- ment of their places of residence. According to the code promulgated by Howel Dha, the King had the power of compelling his subjects to build castles for the purposes of royalty. But tliis was only a small part of the regal prerogative ; — so totally, through all the branches of humiliation, were the people the slaves of their ferocious sovereign, that surely the boasted freedom for which they fought against their " Saxon" invaders was a chimera as delusive and fantastic as those quivering shadows thrown across the mountains at moon-light, which the Marni imagination of the natives embodies in the shape of tutelar fairies ? Perhaps the most beneficial of the monarch's privileges was that which enabled him to compel his people to erect fortified palaces ; and the country might, certainly, have prolonged its independence to a much later period if the Prince had been more anxious to exert his prerogative in this respect. Yet Wales was not destitute of fortresses! when it was entered by Edwaid I. These were by no means so formid- able as might have been expected from the mountainous character of the country, but still they were found very important obstacles to the progress of tlie invader. Few warlike operations display more profound sagacity than those of Edward in regard to Wales. He anticipated every contingency, and was as well prepared for •For the above account we are indebted to Mr. Warrington's History of Wales, t So early as the year 876, in the reign of RoJeric, the chief defiles of Wales were gfuarded by strong fortifications. It is probable that intestine commotions and a continual warfare witli the English, bad prevented these being preserved in a state adapted to national defence. K N 2 276 CASTLE OF CONWAY. defeat as for victory. Everj' stage of a retreat was specified, and he rebuilt the Castle of Flint, and more strongly fortified that of Rhuddlaii, as places of defence, should he be obliged to recede from the arms of the Welsh, on the occurrence of any military casualty. Far different was the conduct of tlie devoted Lleweli/n. Rude, and disdainful of art, he trusted entirely to the natural security of his country, content to retire, like the wolf, to the shelter of the cavern on the approach of a foe. The historians of that age paint Avith admiration the attachment of the Welsh to their national customs, and the native writers of later periods cannot refrain from adding to the commenda- tion bestowed by their precursors ; but every liberal mind must deplore tliat infa- tuated contempt of foreign improvements which led the mountaineers of Llcvclyns day to form themselves in a desperate association at the mouth of a natural fastness, and to oppose their persons, with a disdain of military regularity, to the skilful attacks of their opponents. It is impossible to read, without emotion, the fate of the gal- lant Z/en-f/(/«, while we dislike the bigotry of his habits. Tlie adventures of this unfortunate Prince would, indeed, narrated at length, form a romantic talc of deep intei-est. His life commenced amidst the ruin of his family. Gri/ff'ijd/i, the father of Llewe/i/n, was betrayed by his brother into the hands of the English King, by whom he was committed a prisoner to the Tower of London. Chyffi/dh was in every respect calculated to please the temper of the \A'elsh nation ; he was comely in person, and of a bold and enterprising disposition. Unable to brook the tediousness of confinement, he determined on making a desperate effort for his own freedom and that of his native country. Having evaded the vigilance of his keepers, he, with the assistance of his wife and child, who were the partners of his imprisonment, fastened together pieces of the tapestry of his chamber, the sheets belonging to his bed, and ihe napkins that covered his table. With this aid, he endeavored to let himself do\\ n from the window of the turret in which lie was confiiicd. But his weight was too mighty for the slender line, and he fell into the Tower ditch, with so much vio- lence, that his head and neck were nearly driven into his body ! — I'oetry itself can scarcely picture a circumstance of greater distress. — Fancy traces, with acute throbs of sympathy, the wife and little son lending tlieir feeble aid to strengthen every knot of that motley fabrication on which a husbaiurs and a father's life was to depend. It places them at the turret window, watching, with dreadful apprehension, every inch of the adventurer's descent. But, when the line is rent asunder, the liusband CASTLE OF CONWAY. 277 dies, the wife sinks pale and senseless to the floor, while the frightened child kneels by her, and bathes her with innocent tears, — the imaiiination turns sickening from the spot, willing to fly even to the tumult of war for relief irum so horrible a scene of do- mestic misery. The administration of Llewelyn commenced with fraternal warfare. He took possession of the principality in conjunction with his brother Oue/i. But this Prince, not enduring a partner in the throne, engaged in hostilities against Lleuelj/n, and a battle was fought, in which Owen was detieated and taken prisoner. A more potent rival, Edward, the son of Henry of England, shortly took the field against tlic Welsh Prince. Edward spent his youth in contests with the principality, and though often victorious, was once beaten : a circumstance which is supposed to have made a deep impression on his mind, and to have caused a great portion of that personal hatred with which he is known to have regarded the Prince of Wales. Llewelyn found a powerful ally in Simon de Montford, Earl of Leicester, who openly rebelled against the English King. This nobleman oflTered his daughter, then resident with her brother in France, in marriage to the \Velsli Prince, and Lkxcclyn eagerly accepted the alliance. The lady was then too young for the solemnization of the nuptials, but after a time she quitted France for the purpose of fulfilling the wish of her father. Llexcelyn was the heir of ill-fortune ; — Eleanor de Montford was taken prisoner, near the isles of Scilly, by four ships from Bristol, and was conveyed to the court of England. State-policy was of more interest in the mind of Edward who now sat on the throne, than those courteous maxims of gallantry instilled by the chivalric temper of the age, and he detained the bctrollied lady, placing iier, how- ever, in an honorable attendance on his own Queen. Transcendant charms, and elevated virtues, are usually bestowed with a liberal hand on evei-y lieroine of history who is unfortunate enough to be placed in romantic circumstances. But Eleanor appears to have been really beautiful and worthy ! — particulars Avhich must have sensibly aggravated the morlitication of Z/frre/y/Mn beingdeprivedof his aftianccti bride. Unwilling to trust to result of war, he offered an immense ransom for the captive beauty ; but Edward w as too well convinced of the importance of his acquisition to resign Eleanor, without the Prince made such concessions as were likely to promote the growing jiowcr of the English. Patriotism prevailed over love in tlie breast of Llcxcelj/n, and lie flew to arms with all the ardor of a Knight in romance. But, at the best, liis troops were only calculated to act ■378 CASTLE OF CONWAY. on the defensive ; many of his nobles likewise proved treacherous ; and, at length, necessity compelled him to agree to those arbitrary terms which love had proved in- sufficient to enforce. His union with the daughter of De Montford now took place, and the nuptials were celebrated at Worcester, ihe English King and Queen gracing the ceremony with their presence. It is here that we have to notiee a short period of serenity in the tempestuous life of Lletcelyn. The lovely Eleanor possessed graces to solace him for every disappoint- ment, and he, for the first time, beheld his native mountains divested of armed mul- titudes intent on slaughter and devastation. But this soothing calm was deceitful. His life w as " bound in shallows." Fate pressed onwards, and spread a heavy hand over his best hopes. The first blow, and the most severe that fortune could inflict, was the loss of his Princess, \vho died within three years after their marriage. Her death was the harbinger of ruin. It was her mild influence that had probably re- strained his turbulent passions from revolt. Whea her voice ceased to sound on his car, he became again the subject of refractory projects. The vengeance of Edward was easily provoked, and that war between the nations ensued which terminated the reign of the Welsh Princes. We have already mentioned Lkxvclyns impolitic confidence in the mountainous character of his country. In one of the most remote recesses of Wales he was, how- ever, beset by his enemies. Still he felt secure from sudden danger, M'hile a bridge which commanded the passage of an adjacent river was in the possession of his troops. But the English, though with extreme peril, forded the stream, and burst on him in the midst of his fancied safety. So perfectly free was he from apprehension that when attacked he was unarmed and attended by one Esquire only. In this defenceless state he waited for some chieftains, with whom he had preconcerted a meeting, in a small grove. On the first assault of the English, his Esquire came to inform him that he heard a violent tumult at the bridge. " The Prince eagerly asked if his people were in possession of tlie bridge ? And being told tliat they were, he calmly replied ' he then would not stir from thence, though the whole power of England was on the other side of the river.' This confidence lasted only for a moment ; the grove being instantly sur- rounded by the enemy's horse. Beset on every side, and cut oft' from his army, LkiVelyn endeavored, as secretly as he could, to make good his retieat, and to joia CASTLE OF CONWAY. Qjg the troops he had stationed on a neighboring mountain, who were eagerly expecting the return of their Prince. In making this attempt he was discovered, and closely pursued by Adam dc Fi'ancton, who, perceiving him to be a Welshman, and not knowing his quality, plunged his spear into the body of the Prince, being unarmed and incapable of defence. This being done, regardless of the person he had wounded, Francton instantly joined his own party." Llewelyn lay for a long time unheeded on the ground. '\\'hen persons, at length approached, he had just life enough remaining to ask for a priest. A white friar chanced to be present, and he administered the last offices of the church to the ex- piring Prince. The bards paid numerous tributes to the memory of the ill-fated Llewelyn ; from one of which the reader will not blame us for making the following extract : " The voice of lamentation is heard in every place, as heretofore in Camlan.* The copi- ous tears stream down every cheek, for Cambria's defence, Cambria's munificent Lord, is fallen. Oh Llewelyn ! the loss of thee is the loss of all. At the thought of thee horror chills my blood ; exhausts my spirits ; and consumes my flesh. Be- hold, how the course of nature is changed ! How the trees of the forest furiously rush against each other ! See, how the ocean deluges the earth ! How the sun deviates from his course ! How the planets start from their orbits ! Say, ye thoughtless mor- tals ! do not these things portend the dissolution of nature ? — And let it be dissolved. — Let kind heaven hasten the great catastrophe. — Let a speedy end be put to the incurable anguish of our spirits : since now there is no place to which we, miserable men, may flee : no spot where we can seciu-ely dwell : no friendly counsel : no safe retreat : no way by which we can escape our unhappy doom." As soon as Edward had obtained a complete triumph over the arms of the prin- cipality, and had satiated his rage in an unmanly exultation over the lacerated body of Llewelyn,! he proceeded, with politic caution, to take the steps most likely to • The place where the great Arthur was slain. t A prophecy oi Merlin was said to prognosticate that Llewelyn should one day wear the crown of Brutus. To ridicule this prophecy, the head of the Prince, when separated from his body, was orna- mented with a silver circle, and placed on the pillory in Cheapside. An aged soothsayer had, likewise foretold, when the Welsh commenced their last war with the English, that Llewelyn should ride through Cheapside, with a diadem on his head. In derision of this augury, the blood-stained head of the fatten Prince was encircled with a wreath of ivy, and in that condition it was carried through the streets oi- London by a horseman, who bore it aloft on the top of his spear. gQQ CASTLE OF CONWAY. secure the obedience of his new subjects. Convinced tliat the interior of the Snow- donia would ever form tlie chief dependence of the Welsh, he erected three strong holds in tiic immediate vicinity of that aljnnc district. These were the Castles of Caernarvon, Beaumaris, and Conway. Edward was too prudent to infringe hastily on the private rit'hts of the conquered. It is certain that he procured the land on which he built Beaumaris Castle, by means of an equitable exchange, and it is, there- fore, probable, that he was not less just in regard to the site of his two other fortresses. The Castle of Conway was founded by Edward, in the year 1284, and was com- pleted with such celerity that the natives ascribed its erection to the eftcct of necro- mancy. The genius of the English King, indeed, excited so much surprise among the Welsh, that he was universally, in that country, denominated a magician. We should be tempted to mention this idle conjecture as an indication of the peculiar barbarism of the principality, did we not recollect that, in the same century, the in- habitants of England could not account for the extraordinary learning of Bacon, with- out supposing him conversant in the mysteries of the occult science. Conway Castle is seated on a rocky hill, at tlie base of which flows " the chief of Welsh rivers." It is one of the most magnificent military ruins in the island, and was desiimed with taste and regularity, as well as constructed in so massive a way as to be nearly impregnable to the utmost art then practised in military operations. Edward had imbibed a considerable taste for architecture in the course of his eastern expedition, and this Castle is a proof of the munificence with which he was anxious to embody his conceptions. Eiwht round projecting towers ornament and protect the building. On the top of each, was placed a lofty and elegant turret, \vhich must have bestowed, when the edifice was complete, an admirable air of lightness on the whole. Little remains entire on the inner side, except the fragments of stair-cases in most of the towers, and, one room, one hundred and thirty feet in length, which is adorned with nine Gothic windows and a large chimney piece. This was probably the hall of state, in which Edward once sat enthroned to receive the homage of the subjugated chief- tains. It is impossible to behold the dilapidation to which the building is now sub- ject without experiencing a sentiment of regret. In vain the spectator seeks consola- tion from reflecting that the entire harmony which prevails between the two countries renders politically inconsequential the decay of every fortress once necessary to the CASTLE OF CONWAY. 281 preservation of tratKiuillity. The ruin of architectural grandeur, the impending dis- solution of a structure erected by one of the best of our chivalrous sovereigns, com- pels a sigh, in contempt of every sedate and rational motive of satisfaction. Several of the lofty turrets are already fallen, while many of the towers, deprived of their foundation, hang suspended in the air by the cement which attaches them to the Castle ualls.* The greater part of the town of Conway was built by Edward I. and a front stone in many of the houses still bears the date of 1270. Edward made his dependent town a free borough, when he passed a Christmas there, in great splendor, with Eleanor his Queen, in 1^84. Thetownis surrounded by a high wall, in which twenty- six embattled round towers are placed at regular distances : the whole are now over- grown with a profusion of ivy. The distant view of tlie Castle, and the town with its embattled wall, now that age has deprived these of their terrors, is sublime beyond the hope of description. * The Welsh would appear, from their poetry^ to view the ruin of EJward's fortresses with sensations very different from those described above as natural to a " Saxon" spectator :— " Here earth is loaded with a mass of wall. The proud insulting badge of Cnmlria's fall. By haughty Edward rais'd ; and every stone Records a sigh, a murder, or a groan. The muse of Britain, suffering at its birth, Eiulting sees it crumbling to the earth. Ah ! what avails it that the lordly lower Attracts the thoughtless stare, and vacant hour. If ev'ry bard with indignation burns. When to the tragic tale the eye returns r If, for his haunted race, to distant times. There's still reserved a vengeance tor his crimes '*' Yet this poet (Lloyd, the author of Beaumaris Bay, &c.) was the first to rejoice, in prose, over the solid blessings producad for his country, by the victories of Edward, when the present writer conversed with him near Conway ; and would scarcely listen to a word of lamentation concerning that Joss, in point of simplicity of manners, which the Welsh appear really to have experienced from their amalgama- tion with the more luxtirious inhabitants of the Lowlands. O o 23*2 CASTLE OF CONWAY. So august, indeed, is the spectacle, that it seems to rise superior to the character of artificial compositions, and almost claims a siiareof the adniiration due only to works of nature. One great cause, perhaps, of the peculiar eftect which this venerable Castle produces on the beholder, arises from the circumstance of it, assimilating with the objects around. It raises its majestic head in the neighborhood of a range of mountains which appears formed to be the theatre of martial enterprise. All is alike vast, grand, and impressive. Still, at intervals, soft tufts of wood ameliorate the scene, thrown into a thousand beautiful varieties of light and shade at different- periods of the day. Though the exterior of Conway is so truly grateful to the spectator, the town itself is small and uninteresting. Yet it ap|)ears to have been, two centuries back, esteemed a very delectable situation. Old Sir John Wynn, characterising the inha- bitants of three Welsh towns, thus expresses himself : "The people of Caernarvon are lawyers, those of Beaumaris are merchants, but gentlemen dwell in Conway.' Mr. Lloyd, however, observes " Sir John's mind was, probably, a little biassed in favor of the gentility of Conway, by the residence of a branch of his own family in the Plas Maur there ; and to those who admire the taste and decorations of 1585, that hutre house will be a gratification, the founder having been lavish in ornament, and the display of family achievements." Conway formerly possessed a splendid monastery,* which was the burial place of the ancient Princes of Wales. According to Holbisked, this monastery occupied the * The monks of every age and every nation bave been alike. A bard, who wrote in 1450, satirizes particularly the mendicant friars of his time, who exchanged with the credulous Welsh the images of certain saints for cheese, bacon, and corn. Among these, he notes the representations of Seiiol and Curig, as always negotiable. St. Seriol was reckoned infallible for the cure of various disorders ; and the holy Curig was sure to expel evil spirits from farm-houses, and was a preservative from taking airs: " Beneath his cloak the begging friar bore The guardian charm, grey Curig, to the door. Another, Serial's healing image sold. And found the useful saints like modern gold." Perhaps it would be fortunate for the Welsh if these harmless saints were still objects of veneration, in preference to the demon of methodism, who now is used by religious mendicants, as a mean for ex- torting " bacon, cheese, and corn," from the ignorant mountaineers. CASTLE OF CONWAY. 283 site of the present Castle. It is certain that Edward removed the white monks of Conway to an abbey which he founded near Llanrwst. A country subject Hke Wales, to perpetual commotions, and the stage on which a gallant people struggled with enthusiastic ardor for national independence, scarcely contains a spot that is not rendered interesting by a connection with historical le- gend. In this respect tlie neighborhood of Conway merits cotjspicuous mention. On the banks of the river which washes the Castle, wandered those early princes whose obstinate valor baffled the efforts of the hitherto-victorious Romans ; here Edward fixed the chief quarters of his invading army ; and here resided the principal of those patriotic natives who remained faithful to their Prince to tlie last, and who chose to die amidst their mountains rather than become tributary to the sway of an alien sovereign. Passing over the uncertain tales of very early periods, we first notice a battle fought in the neighborhood of Conway in the year 880. At this time the sovereignty of Wales was divided between two brothers, Anarawd and Caddh, the sons of Roderic the Great. The remains of the Strath-Chvyd Britons, severely harassed by the Saxons, Danes, and Scots, in a conflict with whom they had lately been de- prived of Comtantine dicir King, applied to Anarawd, Prince of North \Vales, for an asylum in his dominions. The Saxons now occupied the country between the Dee and the Conway. Anarawd regarded these neighbors \\ith unavoidable dislike, and readily granted the Strath-ckod applicants as much land between the two rivers as they could obtain and preserve by the power of the sv\ ord. Under the conduct of Hobart, these northern Britons accordingly entered Wales ; and, equally goaded forward by revenge and interest, dispossessed the Saxons, and took possession of their lands. But they did not remain long free from interruption. Eadred, Duke of Mercia, mortified with the disgrace his arms had suffered, speedily made pieparations to recover the district which had been wrested from him. The Britons, in consequence of the threatened attack, removed their cattle and effects beyond the river Conway. Inflamed by the hostile approach of his hereditary enemies Anarawd, instantly collected an army, and marched to the support of his allies. The adverse forces met at Cymryd, about two miles fi-om the present town of Conway, and a bloody engagement commenced. The contest was long and^ arduous, but the arms of the North-wallian Prince, were finally triumphant, and the Saxons retreated hastily to o o 2 284 CASTLE OF CONWAY. Mcrc'ui, whither they were followed by the conqueror. Anarawd, with honest ex- ultation, called the achievement of the day by the name of Dial Rodti (or Roderic's Revenue) in allusion to the death of his father, who fell in a recent action between the Welsh and Saxons. The scenery contiguous to the spot on which this memorable battle was fought, is romantic, wild, and awful, mountains of tremendous height, coluums of thick and gloomy wood, and impetuous cataracts, unite to form precisely such an appalling spectacle as a Salvi>tor would be supposed likely to choose for the back ground of a sanguinary contest. Kinw John waged a successful war against the principality, in the year 1212. Yet Joan his daughter, was the wife of Llewelyn Ap Joriveth, Prince of North Wales. Abandoned by the most weighty of his chieftains, and closely pressed by the po- tent army of the English, Litwdyn retired into the Snowdonia, while John passed the Conway and encamped on the river side. Imprisoned among his steril moun- tains, the Prince was totally unable to protect even that part of his territory which lay immediately contiguous to the place of his retreat. Intent on inflicting an exem- plary vengeance, King John dispatched some troops, with orders to destroy the town of Bangor. Little resistance was made, and the tov/n was immediately set on fire. The Bishop was rescued from the flames and made prisoner.* hX this junc- ture, when fire and bloodshed were carried into the heart of his country, Llewelyn [)erceived but one measure likely to preserve his subjects and himself from destruc- tion. All his hope rested on the relationship between his Princess and tlie invader ; and that illustrious lady readily undertook the office of mediatrix. Penetrating to the tent of her royal father, on the banks of the Conway, she fell prostrate at his feetj and conjured him by every tender tie that is wont to join the interests of pa- rent and child, to grant a pardon to her husband and to recal those dreadful minis- ters of vengeance who even then w-ere revelling in the blood of innocence. The Kin<^ was not proof against her tears and intreaties. The existence of a nation depended on her eloquence, and the pathetic tones with which she appealed to the tenderest feelings of his bosom were irresistible. He granted her suit, and * He was afterwards ransomed for two hundred hawks. CASTLE OF CONWAY. 285 from the banks of the Conway issued those orders of recal which gave life to des- pairing thousands. It must be evident that the memory of the Princess Joan deserves the utmost re- spect which it is in the power of the principality to bestow. A stranger would sup- pose that her ashes were guarded with religious zeal, and that a costly monument perpetuated the gratitude of those whom she had rescued from conflagration and slaughter. How different is the fact ! — A stone coffin, identified as that which for- merly inclosed the remains of the Princess is now to be seen in the grounds beloncr- ing to the mansion of Baron-hill, the seat of Lord Bulkeley. This coffin, before it was placed in its present situation, had been used as a trough for the watering of horses ! " Yet here the thoughtful Clio stops the gay, And shews the little space where greatness lay ! Ye sorrowing race, by life's afflictions prest ! For whora a day shall rise in glory drest ! And ye who walk probation's gentle way. Who pass without a storm your placid day ; And ye who bask in fortune's brightest blaze. May pause to think, and profit while ye gaze !" In the reign of Henry III. a melancholy tragedy took place on the borders of the Conway. The English proving victorious in a skirmish with a party of the natives, pillaged the Abbey of Couway of its books and furniture, and set fire to the offices. Enraged to madness on beholding the mausoleum of their Princes sub- ject to the licentiousness of the foe, the Welsh, inspirited by tiie strains oT their bards, rushed down the mountains, and attacked the plunderers with prodigious impetuosity. The English were incumbered with spoil, and fell an easy prey to the fury of their opponents. Alany were slain on the spot; others plunged into the river to escape their pursuers ; and a considerable nun)ber were taken prisoners. Those w ho surrendered were at first lodged in confinement ; but the Welsh, on being informed that some Lords of their nation had lately been put to death by the enemy, ordered all the prisoners to be hanged; then, cutting of!' their heads, and tearing their bodies to pieces, they threw them limb by limb into the waters of the Conway ! 286 CASTLE OP CO^^WAY. The Castle was tlie seat of contest at the commencement of the civil war undei- Charles I. Dr. John Williams, Archbishop of York, took possession of the fortress, in the King's name, and, after repairing the dilapidations, defended it with heroical perseverance. Nor would lie at last deliver it up to the repeated attacks of the parliamentary forces, until he received the express commands of his Majesty to that effect. In the immediate neighborhood of Conway are many remains of Roman copper- works ; and a round piece of copper has been found, somewhat resembling a cake of wax, on which was an inscription supposed to be the name of a merchant, or the direction of a correspondent at Rome to whom he transmitted the produce of his works. A Roman Hypocaust was also discovered near the foot of the hill on \\hich the Castle stands. THE. FA L A C K OF HOLY-ROOD HOUSE, EDINBURGH. Ui NDER the article of Linlithgow Palace we had an opportunity of expatiating. on, tlie customary dwellings of the Scottish Kings, during the periods in which the aristocracy of the kingdom possessed a plenitude of power. We there noticed those slow degrees by which the ferocious spirit of intestine contention softened into some resemblance of regal security, and national refinement of manners. We observed, that as tlie monarch moved southward in his place of residence the architectural character of his abode increased in elegance and convenience. From Linlithgow we now remove the Sovereign of Scotia to Edinburgh, and proceed to a view of the edifice reared for the purposes of majesty in brighter days, when an acknow- ledged taste for architecture did not inevitably expose him to the contempt of his countrymen. The situation of Holy-rood house is described in such singular, yet apt, terms by the Historian of Edinburgh, that we present the reader with a literal transcript from his work : ■' The ralace of Holy-rood house, the eastmost boundary of the city of Edinburgh, stands on a plain, within two miles of the river Forth, from «hich it rises by a gra- dual ascent of ninety-four feet from the high water mark. From Holy-rood house there begins the narrow point, or, if we may be allowed the expression, the tail of a 288 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. hill, which, gradually extending itself in breadth, rises in a steep, and straight ridge, from which its shelving sides decline ; tlie ridge terminating in an abrupt precipice at the distance of a mile. The ridge of this hill forms a continued and very magnificent street. From its sides, lanes, and alleys, which arc there called zn/nds and closes, extend like slanting ribs, so that, ujjon tiie whole it bears a striking resemblance to a turtle, of which the Castle is the head ; the high street the ridge of the back ; the wynds and closes the shelving sides ; and the Palace of Holy-rood House the tail." In thus placing the Palace at the extremity of the city, tlie Scots appear to have held in attention the practice of the French ; but it seems singular, that the founder should have removed his court to so considerable a distance from the neighborhood of the Castle, since the period could not boast sufficient tranquillity to warrant a total indifference concerning means of local security or defence. Few regal edifices have undergone more casualties or vicissitudes than that of Holy-rood. The labor of the founder was doomed to a speedy dissolution.* The Palace has been almost entirely renovated at different periods, and was constructed in its present splendid form by King Charles H. ; but we are enabled to present a brief account of its character and appearance, when inhabited by a Scottish mo- narch, before we enter on the subject of its existing features. The ancient edifice having been burnt by the English during the minority of Mary Queen of Scots, a new Palace was erected on a much larger scale than either the original or the present structure. " It consisted of five courts, the western, which was the outermost court, being more splendid and larger than the rest. It was bounded on the east by the front of tlie Palace, ijihich occupied the same space with its present front, and also extended further south. The three remaining sides of the outer court were bounded by walls ; and at the north-west corner there was a strong gate, vvith Gothic pillars, arches, and towers. The next court occupied the same site with the present central court of the royal Palace, and was surrounded with buildings. On the south there were two smaller courts, also surrounded with build- ings ; and there was another court on the east, which was bounded on the north by ' A fragment of the ancient Palace still remains. This consists of tlie north-west towers. Below a niche in one of these towers (in which formerly was a statue) the name of the founder is still to be seen. HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. 289 the chapel royal ; on the west by a line of buildings covering the same space with the present east front of the Palace ; on the south by a row of buildings ; and on the north by a wall, which divided it from St. Ann's yards." From this description, though confessedly vague and unsatisfactory, we may form some idea of the increased refinement of the Scottish sovereigns of the sixteenth cen- tury. In Queen Mary's Palace we find no towers erected solely for defence, but, on the contrary, convenience and splendor of domestic arrangement, appear to have been studied in every particular of the building. A small area, secured by immense masses of unshaped stone, was judged sufficient for the dwelling of the early mo- narchs : in the sixteenth century five spacious courts were wanted for the retinue and accommodation of the fearless sovereign. The barons were now in some mea- sure humbled by civilization, and were more frequent visitors at the court of the mo- narch, where they were entertained with a comparative splendor of hospitality.* The meats provided for a banquet in the royal Palace boasted considerable variety, and their quantity appears to have been enormous. " There were purchased," we ai-e told, " for a Christmas dinner at Holy-rood House, for jellies alone, five hundred ox feet, fifteen hundred sheep's feet, and thirty-six cocks (for of these ingredients were their jellies composed.") — So common, indeed, had become at this time a luxu- rious manner of living, that it was judged necessary to restrain the expenses of the table by a sumptuary law. Accordingly, all under the rank of Archbishop or Earl, were prohibited having more than eight dishes; an Abbot, Lord Prior, or Dean was allowed six; a Baron, or freeholder, four; and a Burgess was permitted to en- tertain his guests with three. The King, of course, had as many dishes as he thought desirable. Still, the furniture at this time was mean. Glass had recently been introduced, and appears to have been procured in plenty, for " at an entertainment given by the Earl of Murray, to the Patriarch of Apuleia, A. D. 1544, the Earl, although * That a spirit of sociableness prevailed generally at this period seems evident from tiie following anecdote. When certain fanatics lay in wait for Carm tcAoe/, Chamberlain to the Primate, with the in- tention of assassinating him, they were about to separate, on the intended victim not appearing, wheo " an unlucky boy coming up, told them that the Archbishop's coach was at Ceres, and that his Grace himself was then smoking a pipe with the parson of the parish, and that he would pass by, in hi* coach, in a very short time, in his way to St. Andrews ; on which the wretches instantly resolved on his death." P P 290 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. he had a good store of silver plate, ordered his cupboard to be provided vvitli \tne- tian crystal glasses, and gave his servant instructions to overturn it, as if by acci- dent, in the midst of dinner. The noise of its fall alarmed the company, who ex- pressed their regret for the loss ; but tlie Earl, making no account of it, commanded his servant to fill the cupboard anew with glasses still finer ; and the Patriarch af- firmed that no Venetian glass could excel them." But, in general, the " only furniture in the hall of a great Baron, consisted of large standing tables, forms, and cupboards without locks or keys. Queen INIary brought with her from France, arras hangings, carpets, and various kinds of household furniture ; and it is uncertain if these were known in Scotland at an earlier date ; even then they were so rare and valuable as to be used only upon high fes- tivals, after which the hangings were taken from their tenter hooks, and carefully deposited till returning Christmas." A people so moderate in their wishes must have appeared truly barbarous to Mary, after quitting the polished court of France. The palace built for the reception of Queen Mary \\as nearly destroyed by the soldiers of Cromwell ; but, on the restoration, Charles II., unwilling that the Scots should view themselves deprived of every exterior badge of royalty, ordered the building to be restored. This charge he committed to his well-known architect Sir William Bruce, who drew the plan of the present fabric, the executive part of w hich was performed (as a stone in the building bears reconl) by a mason named Robert Mylne. " The Palace of Holy-rood House* is of a quadrangular form, \vith a court in the centre, surrounded by piazzas. The front is two stories high, and flat in the roof, but at each end, where the front projects, and is ornamented witii circular towers at the angles, the building is much higher; the rest of the Palace is three stories high. Over the door in the front of the Palace is a small cupola for a clock, the roof of which is an imperial crown in stone-work. " The only apartments which are worth viewing are those possessed by the Duke of Hamilton, who is heritable keeper of the Palace. These occupy all that remains of the old Palace. The young chevalier lodged in them during his residence in Edin- burgh, and a few weeks afterwards the Duke of Cumberland occupied the same * For this descriptive part of the article we are indebted to Mr. Arnot. HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. 291 apartments and the same bed, which is still standing. In the second floor are Queen Mary's apartments, in one of which her own bed still retnains. It is of crimson damask, bordered with green silk tassels and fringes, and is now almost in tatters. The cornice of the bed is of open figured work, the execution of which is admirably light. Close to the floor of this room a piece of wainscot, about a yard square, hangs upon hinges, and opens to a trap stair which communicates with the apartment beneath. Through this passage the conspirators rushed in to murder Rizzio. " Those chambers which are called the royal apartments occupy three sides of the square on the first floor. On the north is a spacious gallery, of which, however, the height bears no proportion to the length. This apartment is entirely hung with pic- tures of a race of a hundred and eleven monarchs, through an imaginary series of upwards of two thousand years. The folly of the legend, and the baseness of the execution in portraying these monarchs, whether real or imaginary, would make it for the honour of the country that they were utterly destroyed.* We saw, indeed, that an attempt had been made at their destruction, which was not easily to be ac- counted for. Not only were most of them hacked and slashed, but in many of them large pieces cut out. This we afterwards learned was owing to General Hawley having thought proper, after the defeat of the King's army at Falkirk, to quarter his troops in the gallery of this Palace, and these zvell disciplined troops thought they could not better manifest their loyalty to King George than by defacing and hewing to pieces every representation of the Scottish monarchs. " We afterwards went through a suite of rooms, one of which has been intended for a state bed chamber, and the two next for a drawing room and dining room. In the last of these we saw some wooden forms, and, upon inquiring what purpose they served, were told that they were to accommodate the Scottish peerage, as the election of the sixteen was held in that apartment. In this suite the rooms are wainscotted with oak ; the festoons of flowers, and foliage over the doors and mantle pieces, are well executed ; but the stucco ornaments of the roofs, similar to all those of that pe- * These fanciful portraits were painted by order of James Duke of York, (afterwards James II.) when he repaired the chapel-royal of Holy-rood House. They were executed by De ly'itt, a well- known artist of the Flemish school. The pictures are universally allowed lo be bad, but it is not per- haps quite so universally known that De Witt was never paid for painting them. P P 2 2C)2 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. riod, are heavy. The apartments on the south side of the square have never been finished but in a very pitiful manner. We found the.^n made use of as lumber rooms for some of the nobihty who have lodgings within the Palace. " We had heard of a picture of Charles I. and his Queen being in what is called Lord Dunmore's lodgings, wliich induced us to visit them. The apartments are {ew, of a piiiful size, miserably finished, and no furniture in them except the picture al- ready mentioned, and those of their present majesties. That picture represents Charles I. and his Queen, in a sort of vandyke riding habit, as going out a hunting attended by a dwarf, spaniels, &c. The figure of the King is done in a masterly manner, but the painter has not bestowed on Henrietta those graces which she pos- sessed. The Queen's palfrey, led by a negro, and a horse for his majesty, arc also introduced ; but the palfrey is out of all size and proportion, the body being by much too gross for the size of the horse.* The pictures of their present majesties are full length portraits by Ramsay. " The environs of the Palace afford an asylum for insolvent debtors. Adjoining to it there is an extensive park ; first inclosed by James V. all of whicii is a sanctuary.f This is a very singular piece of ground to be in the near neighborhood of a populous city. It is little else than an assemblage of hills, rocks, precipices, morasses, and lakes. At the bcnnning of the eighteenth century the level strip at the foot of the hill which, from the Duke of York having delighted to walk in it is called the Duke's walk, was covered with tall oaks. But now there is hardly a single tree in its whole boundaries. Indeed, it is extremely doubtfid if, except at the bottom, there ever were any trees on these hills, the height of the ground and barrenness of the soil being very unfavorable for their growth. " The most considerable of these hills are called Arthur's seat and Salisbury craigs. The genius of modern criticism has displayed itself in deriving all Scots names from the Erse, and the profound critics, under the grave mask of ingenuity, argue learned- ly upon the derivation of names from certain words in a language of which they do * This picture is confidently supposed by many to be the peifor nance of Jameson. The Queen is painted with a lovelock, and with browner hair and a darker complexion than usual. Jameson was the son of an architect at Aberdeen, and studied under Rubens, at Antwerp. He always drew himself with his hat on. His price for a head was 20/. Scots, or U. 13s. 4d. English. f When a part of the Palace was recently fitted up, by order of government, for the accommodation of the Count d'Artois, that nobleman, though a foreigner, claimed the benefit of this asylum. HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. 293 not understand, and perhaps cannot pronounce, one syllable. We are not able to combat these champions with their own weapons ; but, after all ihe learned deriva- tions of Arthur s seat and Salisbury craigs, we must be pardoned for supposing the former to be derived from Arthur, the Bntich Prince, who, in the end of the sixth century, defeated the Saxons in that neighborhood ; and the latter to take their name from the Earl of Salisbury, \tho, in the reign of Edwaid III. accompanied that Prince in an expedition against the Scots. What makes the latter of these the more probable is that, in old authors, the name of these hills is indifferently spelled Salisbury and Sarezbury ; so also is the name of that lord. " Arthur's seat, the largest of these hills, rises by a steep and rugged ascent till it terminates in a rocky point, seven hundred feet higii from the base. Upon the west are Salisbury craigs, which present to tlie city an awful front of broken rocks and precipices, forming a sort of natural amphitheatre of solid rock. Among these rocks are rich ores, spar, and great variety of rock plants,* so that they are an ex- cellent field for the naturalist. Sometimes, also, auiethysts, and other precious stones have been found among them. But the rocks themselves arc far more valu- able, aftbrdiug an inexhaustible supply of hard stone for paving the streets, and of these stones considerable quantities are sent for paving tlie streets of London. Be- tween Arthur's seat and Seilisbury craigs is a recluse valley, the bottom of which is a morass. Immediately upon descending into this valley, the view of Edinburgh is totally lost ; the imperial prospect of the city and Castle, which these rocks in a manner overhang, is intercepted by Salisbury craigs. Seldom are human beings to be met in this lonely vale, or any creatures to be seen, but the sheep feeding ou the mountain, and the hawks and ravens winging their flight among the rocks. After the eye passes the ruins of St. Anthony's chapel, at a distance beneath are seen a magnificent mausoleum, and the ruins of the church of Kestalrig, and the fields gently sloping to the Forth. The Town of Leith, the navigation in the river, and the island of Inchkeith enliven the prospect, which is terminated by the bold shores and mountainous parts of Fife. " On the south, Arthur's seat is, in many parts, a perpendicular rock, composed of natural pillars regularly pentagonal or hexagonal, about three feet in diauieter, and from forty to fifty feet high. At the bottom of the rock is a lake belonging to the * The hilts contiguous to Arthur's leat present specimens of four hundred different species. 2.Q4 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. Earl of Abercorn, called Duddingston Lock; beyond it are seen his Lordship's ele- gant villa, Craigmillar Castle, the village of Inveresk, Musselburgh Bay, the southern banks of the Forth, and at a great distance, North Berwick Law, like a vast cone, seeming to rise from the waves." From the foregoing description the reader will be convinced that the situation of Holy-rood House is replete with natural ctiarms of tlie most fascinating as[)ect, but it must likewise be evident that tlie buildiuij itself has no Icjiitimate claim to grandeur, and is entirely destitute of all regularity of architectural character. Gothic turrets and Ionic pilasters are intermixed without any regard to taste or consistency. The quadrangular form of the edifice prevents the accomplishment of a striking display of the whole, without any necessity existing for such a mode of conformation. Yet ac quadrangular form of structure, by producing a variety of fronts, affords the archi- tect an opportunity of exhibiting fertility of genius. In some quadrangular buildings we see such variations of beauty as possess a separate whole of magnificence, with- out violating the leading characteristic of the edifice. But this is not the case with the Palace of Holy-rood House. Tlic reign of Charles, was indeed, not fa- vourable to the arts. The King preferred the drama, when debased by a meretri- cious jingle; and, in architecture, he was pleased only with tinsel extravagance, and such a combination of minute particulars as was pretty, rather than chaste or grand. Of this, his alterations at Windsor Castle afford a proof; and, if they are not vouchers of sufficient authority, perhaps Holy-rood House may be adduced as a fur- ther testimony of the justice of the assertion. Still, Bruce was the great architect of the day, and has proved that if he had beeen fortunate enough to meet a patron of correct judgment, he would have raised buildings which must have highly ho- nored his name and country. The remains of the monastery of the holy cross, or rood, join to the Palace. This abbey was founded by King David I. and the following story is told concerning its oriiiin. — As the Kin" was huntina; in the forest of Dnimselch, in the immediate vicinity of Edinburgli, he was assailed by an enraged stag, who unhorsed him in an instant, and would probably have put a very speedy termination to his royal existence, had not this Scottish ^fonarch, like the first Christian Emperor, been an especial favorite with the saints. As a reward for the piety of King David, and in considera- tion of his great liberality to churchmen, a cross descended from heaven, in the mo- HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. 295 ment of his danger, with which he stoutly attacked the beast, who soon found what sort of a weapon was raised against him, and was glad to make the best of his way to the woods, leaving the King and tlie cross a complete triumph. King David would have been little better than a brute if he had not allowed that this was an ui/coi/Diion exertion oi the ndints m his favor, and he very properly determined to prove his gratitude by some lasting mark of his veneration for the church. Accord- ingly, in the year 1 128, he founded the abbey of Holy-rood for the canons-regular of St. Augustine. In addition to many other valuable privileges, these canons were permitted to erect a borough between the town of Edinburgh and Holy-rood church, \\hich still retains the name of Canongatc. Various succeeding monarchs added to the gifts of the founder, so that Holy-rood abbey was deemed the most opulent religious foundation in Scotland. Its annual revenues, at the period of the reformation, ap- pear to have been as follows: four hundred and forty-two bolls of wheat; six Imn- dred and forty bolls ofbsct/- (barley?) five hundred and sixty bolls of oats;, five hun- dred capons; two dozen of hens; two dozen of salmon; twelve loads of salt; be- sides a number of swine, and about two hundred and fifty pounds sterling, in money. When Charles II. resolved to rebuild the Palace of Holy-rood, lie ordered the abbey church to undergo a complete repair, and to 1)C set apart as a chapel-royal. A throne was now erected for the Sovereign, and twelve stalls for the Knights of the order of the Thistle. An organ was likewise provided. But this latter circumstance, in conjunction with the fact of mass having been celebrated in the chapel during the reign of James VII. caused the barbarous populace, at the revolution, to despoil the building of every ornament. The bare walls were alone left standing. The unhal- lowed rioters even profaned the vault which had been used as the royal sepulchre. There, among other illustrious personages, lav James Y. JNIagdalcne of France, his Queen, and the unfortunate Earl of Darnley. The ruffians broke open the leaden coffins, and carried away the lids ; but as the royal bones were not negotiable arti- cles, these anti- papists were pleased to leave them behind. In the middle of the last century, the roof of the church was pronounced to be in so ruinous a state, that the Duke of Hamilton, as heritable keeper cf the Palace,, represented its condition to the Barons of Exchequer ; by whom an architect andi mason were appointed to examine the alleged dilapidations. 296 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. The walls of the church had stood for six hundred years, and were now in a very crazy state, yet the architect appointed by the Barons, proposed to deposit on them a new roof composed of weighty flag-stones. The Barons relished the idea, and a covering of flag-stones was accordingly placed on the church. But, in a very few years, the building fell to the ground, in one mighty heap of ruin, as it appeared that the walls had never been inte7ided to sustain so vast a load ! Thus is the august fabric of King David reduced to that state which is only cal- culated to lend " point to a moral," or to excite melancholy feelings in the breast of the traveller. The poet now calls the faded region his own, and forms stanzas like these as he ponders over the memorials of disjoined grandeur : — " How many hearts have here grown cold, That sleep these mould'ring tombs among ! How many beads have here been told ! How many matins here been sung ! " On this rude stone, by time long broke, I think I see some pilgrim kneel, I think I see the censer smoke, I think I hear the solemn peal ! " But here no more soft music floats. No holy anthems chaunted now. All's hush'd, except the ring-dove's notes. Low murm'ring from yon baechen bough." A visit made to the chapel, about thirty years back, is thus described by the his- torian of Edinburgh ; " We saw scattered in wild confusion, the broken shafts qf the columns which had been borne down by the weight of the roof. Upon looking into the vaults, the doors of which were open, we found that what had escaped the fury of the mob at the revolution, became a prey to the rapacity of the mob who ransacked the church after it fell. In the year 1776, we had seen the body of James V. and some others, in their leaden coffins. The cofiiiis were now stolen. The head of Queen Magdalen , which was then entire, and even beautiful, and the skull of Darnley, were also stolen !" HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. 397 Strangers visiting the ruins are still shown some bones which are said to be Lord Darnley's. If they are really so, he appears to have been above the ordinary sta- ture.* In the belfry is a statue of Robert, Lord Belhaven, well executed in m hite marble, but which partakes of the state of dilapidation into which the building has fallen. Many of the actions of those full-dressed characters of human life, who form the dramatis persona of national history, are connected with the Palace of Holy-rood House. From the operation of various oppressive circumstances, the early annals of Scotland are known to be peculiarly imperfect. Little, therefore, of the familiar history of the sovereigns who preceded Mary is attainable to the most laborious in- vestigator. A circumstance assuredly deserving of much regret, as the private his- tory of those w ho gave a bias to national manners in remote periods is fretjuently a subject of important information to the philosophical student of human nature. Since the general dissemination of letters, all the tittle-tattle of courts is preserved in folios ; so that the reader of history, two centuries hence, will probably complain of a redundancy of anecdote, rather than feci cause to deplore that paucity of intel- ligence to which the writer of the present article is subject. It was in 1544 that the English entered Edinburgh, under the command of the Earl of Hertford, afterwards Duke of Somerset and Protector. As they advanced to- wards the city they were met by the Provost and the principal inhabitants, who offered to deliver up the keys on the moderate conditions of being granted permission to re- move their effects, and of receiving a promise that the city should not be subjected to conflagration. But the English General (influenced by the sanguinary spirit of Henry VIII.) rejected the propositions, and demanded from the citizens an uncon- ditional surrender of their persons and estates. The Provost replied, " it were better the city should stand on its defence ;" when he was haughtily commanded to retire. An assault now took place : an entrance was gained, and many of the inhabitants killed. The castle was next attacked, but the garrison retorted so vigorous and well-directed a tire, that the assailants were speedily compelled to desist from the at- tack of that fortification. The English then set the city on fire in so many places "that the smoke thereof obliged them to quit for awhile the scene of their devastation." * The writers of Lord Darnley's era affirm that he was seven feet high. Q Q 298 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. For seven miles round Edinburgh the country was laid waste, and the palace con- structed by James V. in the vicinity of Holy-rood Abbey, was nearly levelled with the ground. A due apprehension of the extent of mischief perpetrated on this occasion, may be formed from the account preserved, in Robertson's History, of buildings destroyed in the course of a subsequent incursion made by tiie English under the Earl of Hert- ford. From this narrative, it appears that the invaders burned and razed, in the counties of Berwick and Roxburgh only: Monasteries and Friar-houses - - 7 Casiles, Towers, and Piles - - l6 Market Towns - - . 5 Villages - - - - 243 Milns ... - 13 Hospitals - • - . 3 History does not mention whether the conqueror had a triumphal arch erected to his honor, on returning to his native country. The misfortunes of Queen Mary commenced at a very early period. On the Sunday after her arrival a mob beset Holy-rood Palace, for the purpose of instruct- ing her majesty respecting the proper way of worshipping God. To such a pitch of insolence had the spirit of these religious instructors risen, that it was with difficulty they were restrained from hanging the priest wlio was then officiating in J^Ioly-rood chapel. What a sad specimen of the popular manners of Scotland to be presented to the polished and Catholic Mary ! The disease of religious enthusiasm is well known to have rasjed to an alarming extremity at this period ; — certain precursor of the con- fusion and downfal of the best cemented government, unless a salutary antidote be timeously applied ! Who can avoid contempt, or pity, (or an intern)ixture of both) when he sees numbered among the " heinous crimes," stigmatised by the enthu- siasts of this era, the sins of walking in the street, and of gazing profanely from house windows, on the seventh day ?* * It is observed " that these Puritans seem not to have been ignorant of the maxim that all things are lawful to the saints. The Earl of Arran enjoyed his mistress peaceably^ but when the Marquis de Elbeuf and the Earl of Bothwell, in a drunken frolic, paid her a visit, addresses were presented to the Queen, and tumults in the streets were headed by the Protestant Lords, to repress the horrid impiety." HOLY- ROOD HOUSE. 29.9 It was natural for the Queen to look with indignation on the insolent fauaticism of subjects who threatened to hang her priest, while they professed to be actuated by the genuine spirit of Christianity, but, unhappily, she was as entire a bigot as them- selves, only in a different way. Locked in Holy-rood House, with her mass-book and father-confessor, she vicNved all the " reformed" part other subjects as persons hurrying to eternal condemnation; while the tumultuous mob of zealots who as- sailed the gates, pronounced themselves certain that her majesty was making the same dreadful progress, and must soon be utterly lost, unless she listened to John Knox, and adjured beads and images. This mutual pertinacity of opinion, led the way to those events which deprived Mary of her crown. In 1566, David Rizzio was murdered in Holy-rood House. The particulars of the assassination are thus narrated in a letter, written immediately subsequent to the transaction, by the Earl of Bedford, to certain Lords of the English council: " Upon Saturdaye at night, neire unto viii of the clock, the King conveyeth himself, the Lord Ruthen, George Duglas, and two others, throwe his owne chamber by the privy stayers up to the Queen's cliamber, going to which there is a cabinet about xii foot square, in the same a little low reposing bed, and a table, at the which theyr were sitting at supper the Queene, the Lady Argile, and David, with his capp upon his head. Unto the cabinet there cometh in the King and Lord Ruthen, who willed David to come forth, saying that was no place for him. The Queen said that it was her will. Her ho\yscband answcrede that yt was against her honour. The Lord Ruthen saide that he should lerne better his deutie, and offering to have taken him by the arm, David took the Queen by the blychtes of her gown, and put himself behind the Queen, who wolde gladlee iiave saved him : but the King, having loosed his hand, and holding her in his arms, David was thrust out of the cabinet throw the bed-chamber into the chamber of Presens, whar were the Lord Morton, Lord Lyndscy, who intending that night to have reserved hym, and the next day to hang hin), so mane being about him that bore hym evill will one thrust him into the boddie with a dagger, and after hym a great many others, so that he had in his bodie above wonds. It is told for certayne that the Kinges own dagger was left sticking in him. Wheather he stuck him or not we cannot be here certayn. He was not slayne in the Queen's presens, as was said, but going down tlie stayres out of the chamber of Presens." Q Q 2 300 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. Amion£» other circumstances, the letter then states " that of the great substance Davkl had, there is much spoken. Some say in gold to the value of 1 1". c^. His apparel was very good, as it is said, 28 pair of velvet hose. His chamber well fur- nished, armour, dagger, pystoletts, harquebuses, 22 swords. Of all this nothing spoykl or lacked, saving 2 or 3 dagger. He had the custody of all the Queen's letters, which all were delivered unlooked upon. We hear of a juill that he had hanging about his neck of some price, that cannot be heard of. He had upon his back, when he was slayn, a night gown of damask, furred, with a satten dublet, a hose of russet velvet." The room in which the Queen and her secretary were sitting, and the stairs on which the murder was committed, are still shoun to the visitor of Holy- rood Palace.* In the year 1587, King James, unable to cope with the growing power of the ec- clesiastics while his nobles remained distracted by family feuds and personal animo- sities, effected a reconciliation between the leaders of the latter body, and celebrated the wrateful circumstance by a splendid banquet at Holy-rood House. After which the newly-reconciled noblemen walked hand in hand to the cross of Edinburgh, where they ate together, and each drank to tlie health of the other. Thus giving, as it were, a public pledge of amity and good fellowship. King James appears to have lived in a state of unreserved intercourse with the chief persons of the realm. The following letter is connected with the Scottish Palace, and is a pleasing voucher for the simplicity and conviviahty which prevailed in the court over which the writer presided : * It is surprising that Dr. Robertson should give it as his opinion that Rizzio was innocent of the crime innputed to him by the King. If there were any satisfactory motive for the discussion, it would not be difficult to prove that the arguments advanced by the historian are possessed of very liule weight. — We cannot quit the subject of Rizzio, without reminding the reader of the error committed by those who ascribed to him the exquisite melodies which are justly the pride of Scottish musicians. " The science of music," observes a judicious writer, " was well understood, and we had great masters, both theorists and performers, more than a century before Rizzio came to Scotland. He is by no contem- porary writer said to have been a composer. He is not even extolled as a great performer ; nor is there tradition for his being the author of any one particular song ; and allowing him to have had abi- lity, the short time he was in Scotland (scarce three years) was lou iusy irilh him to admit of such amusement." • HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. 301 From James VI. to llie Laird of Balfour. " Right trusty Friend ! We greet you well. Having appointed the Baptism of our dearest daughter to be here at Haly-rood House, upon Sunday the fifteenth day of Aprile next, in such honourable manner as that action craved ; we have therefor thought good, right, effectually to request and desire you to send us such offerings and presents against that day as is best then in season, and convenient for that action, as you regard our honour, and will merit our special thanks. So not doubting to find your greater willingness to pleasure us herein, since you are to be invited to take part of your own good cheer, we commit you to God. From Haly-rood House, this tenth day of February, 1598. James, R." Edinburgh was once visited by King Charles I. while in the zenith of his power. His majesty ^\■as received by the Lord Provost, magistrates and town council, in their robes, attended by two hundred and sixty armed youths, dressed in doublets of white sattin, and black velvet breeches. The streets were hung willi carpets and ta- pestry, and guarded by the trained bands. Pompous and expensive pageantry was exhibited in conspicuous places, and on the King reaching Holy-rood Palace, he was complimented with an adulatory address. The Duke of York, afterwards James H. maintained a s|)lendid court at Holy- rood Palace, where he resided as commissioner to the Scottish parliament, accom- panied by his Duchess and the Princess Anne, afterwards Queen of England. It was tlien that dramatic pieces were performed in the tennis-hall of the Palace ; but according to the satirical verses of Dryden, the Comedians were not very eminent for talent, and not very well stocked with those glittering articles wh.ich enable the heroes of the buskin to seem " every inch," Kings and courtiers, while they strut their short hour upon the stage. The lines have been frequently quoted, yet we vea- ture on an extract : 302 HOLY-ROOD HOUSE. " Our brethren have from Thames to Tweed departed. To Edinburgh gone, or coach'd or carted. Our trusty door-keeper, of former time. There struts and swaggers in heroic rhime. Tack but a copper lace to drugget suit. And there's a hero made without dispute. And that which was a capon's tail before. Becomes a plume for Indian Emperor : But all his subjects, to express the care Of imitation, go like Indian bare ! Laced linen there would be a dangerous thing ; It might perhaps a new rebellion bring ; The Scot who wore it would be chosen King." On the landing of tlie Prince of Orange, the populace of Edinburgh testified their patriotism, and joy on the occasion, by breaking open the cellars of the Earl of Perth (a friend to the family and religion of James.) After which those who were able marshalled in the streets, and with vociferations of " no popery !" attacked the chapel of Holy-rood House. A hundred soldiers stationed in the abbey fired on the mob, and compelled ihem to retire, but they speedily returned, and defeated the King's party : killing some and making the others prisoners. We have already stated the merciless fury with which they then despoiled the obnoxious building. In the year 1745, the chevalier St. George took possession of Holy-rood House. From this Palace, as from head quarters, he issued divers proclamations, in which a liberal spirit of humanity is known to have been conspicuous. The ambitious temper of the house of Bourbon suggested those measures which caused the chevalier St. George to become a temporary inmate of Holy-rood Palace. How far was it distant from the reflection of the Princes of that enterprizing house that their own descendants would shortly be compelled to seek refuge in the same shell of British royalty? Yet such was the fact ; and it will be recorded to the honor of great Britian that she afforded a ready shelter to her once determined enemies, when misfortune had taught them " what others are to feel," and to " own them- selves men." Many of the Scottish nobility have, at present, occasional lodgings in the Palace of Holy-rood House. EDINBURGH CASTLE. " Once more, O North ! I view thy winding shores, Climb thy bleak hills, and cross thy dusky moors." I T has hitherto been our aim to select such articles for discussion as were calculated to produce variety, in regard to local description and historical allusion. In tlie present instance we depart from that mode of conduct, under the influence of the following consideration : — Edinburgh is conspicuous for two edifices seated at the opposite extremities of the city, which equally solicit the notice of the traveller to whom works of architectural magnificence present objects of interesting speculation. ThuSj it appeared that the volume could not be satisfactorily completed without an account of that Castle which unites with Holy-rood House in decorating the city of Edinburgh with the vestiges of ancient splendor. We have mentioned, in the preceding article, that agi'eeable though singular fancy of Mr. Arnot's, which ventures to compare the city of Edinburgh, with its two magnificent appendages, to the unseemly but delicious animal a turtle. Although the numerous buildings which have been constructed since tlie period of Arnot's work, interfere with the propriety of the simile, its former correctness is evident from the slightest investigation ; and certainly the inhabitants of the celebrated " Dun Edin," could not wish their city to be characterised by any resemblance more indi- cative of luxurious plenty or solidity of organization. According to I\Ir. Arnot's system, Holy-rood House presents tlie tail ; Canongate, the High Street, Castle Hill, &c. express the spinal centre of the back ; and the old Castle (source of the- consequence of the whole body) Mr. Arnot denominates the head^ 304 EDINBURGH CASTLE. To descend from the figurative style of the worthy historian, we inform the reader, without a trope, that Edinburgh Castle is seated on the western extremity of the hill on which the most ancient part of the city is built. This hill, or rock, is about thifu hundred feet hi^h,* and is of so precipitous a description that the summit is accessible only from die eastern side. At some points the rock is nearly per- pendicular. Though the High Street is generally said to unite the Castle and Holy-rood House, the former is, in fact, separated from the buildings of the city by a space of about three hundred and fifty feet in length, and three hundred in breadth. This space is denominated Castle Hill Walk. It is evident that the Scots were sensible at a very early period, of the political propriety of erecting strong holds of defence in every district of their possessions. ' The incursions of foreign enemies are ever, eventually, productive of great national improvements ; thus it seems highly probable that the invasions of the Danes, who uniformly built rude but substantial fortresses on every spot distinguished by their successful irruptions, first suggested to the Scots the policy of fortifying the most ac- cessible points of their country. But that which was at first purely intended as a mean of defence against the common enemy, soon became the instrument of tyranny among a throng of nobles, too nearly equal in power to live in neighborly amity, and too rude to perceive the general advantages which must accrue from submitting to one great head, capable alike of preventing open aggression and of redressing covert injuries. Thus, Scotland was strong in fortified recesses, while England depended on her arms in the field ; but the very Castles intended to defend the former from the encroachments of a foreign power, proved the cause of actual slavery to the great bulk of the people. Where nature does much it is well known that art will do little. In no period do the Scots appear to have constructed their fortresses with much attention to the artificial modes of defence prevalent with the inhabitants of the lowlands. Like the mountaineers of Wales, they placed their great dependence on natural circum- stances of security. Their castles were erected on the summits of hills which were so lofty and precipitous, that open force was unable to hope for success in an * From its base ; but it is elevated precisely _two hundred and ninety-four feet above the le\el of the tea. EDINBURGH CASTLE. 305 assault ;* or, perhaps, a rocky peninsula was chosen for the site of the fortress. Here the wild uproar of the Scottish waters defended the building from the arms of rival clans, while the dreary caverns of the sea-washed rock, presented natural retreats for the garrison in times of extreme danger, and, likewise, cells for the reception of those who were miserable enough to become captives to tlie Lord of the domain. Of this latter description was the fsstlc of i^re«a/cA', which occupied the top of a narrow rock that projected into the open ocean. Through the little isthmus which connected this rock with the main land, a deep chasm was effected, with much labor, over which was thrown a drawbridge. All around were lofty cliffs and tempestuous waters. Edinburgh Castle, on the contrary, depended for security on the elevation of its site ; and seems to have been intended rather to strike awe into the refractory chief- tains of the interior, than to present an obstacle to tlie boldaess of invaders. The Castle of Edinburgh was originally denominated Castelh Mynyd Agncd, that is, " the fortress of the Hill of Agnes ;" and the hill itself was termed Mynyd Agned Cathre-gonion, which implies, in the language of the ancient Britons, " the Hill Agned, nigh the fortress." From which appellations it would appear that the Castle was founded after the introduction of Christianity to Scotland. At a subsequent period, the fortress was called Castrum Puellarum, because, as some assert, the daughters of the Pictish chiefs received "their education" in the Castle. It is beyond a question that a very short period would have been sufficient for all the instruction which the rude chieftains of the Picts were anxious to bestow on their daughters ; but the Castle answered a more needful purpose, by protecting those high-born damsels from the indignities to which they might have been subject in a residence of less strength, while their fathers and brothers were despoiling neighboring territories, and making free with the families of conquered rivals. Some persons have wished to ascribe a very remote origin to Edinburgh Castle ; but it is certain that a battle was fought on the site of the building by Arthur, King of the Britons, towards the close of the fifth century. The ground-plot of the fortress occupies about six acres. At the western extremity is the outer barrier, which is formed of strong palisadoes. Beyond this are a dry * In some instances (as in that of Dunstaffnage) the rock which formed the site of the Castle vra« «ut, or pared, to render it precipitous, and to make it agree with the shape of 'he building. R R S06 EDINBURGH CAST1.E. ditch, a draw-bridge, and gate, defended by two flanking batteries. A lialf-moon, mounted witli twelve eighteen and twenty-four pounders, commands the whole en- trance. Close to the gate is a guard-room, for the sentinels of the standing guard, and likewise a reservoir lately constructed for the purpose of serving the garrison with water ; — a very necessary erection, as the Castle was formerly supplied from a draw-well, upwards of a hundred feet deep. This water was not only very bad, but it was found that, in the event of a siege, the concussion produced by a con- tinued dischai to the cause of the people ; and at which a galaxy of splendid, yet solid, characters appeared, who almost rivalled the dignified patriots of antiquity. It was during the short but glorious public existence of these men that the design was formed for a national mausoleum. Alas ! how deep is the regret, and how potent tlie disdain of the examiner, when he looks in vain for the hallowed names of these 520 PANTHEON OF PARIS. great iiien in the temple which their own generous minds had projected ! but ivhere sell-interest aud vulgar ambition (the vices of every knave whom the waves of con- tention throw to the surface) prevail over a spirit of virtuous emulation, and a love of human-kind, to be forgotten in the court calendar of canonized worthies is the highest honor that plain integrity can receive. " Would the sacrifice be offered," observes a recent writer and the Pyrrhic tlance be performed, in honor of the Gracchi, by Nasica and Oph/ii us? Would the funeral wreath be reposed on the bier of Cassias and Thrasea by Augustus and Ne7'o ? The building now termed the Pantheon, is of a cruciform shape, surmounted by a dome of stone, which is covered, in the mode of Turkish architecture, with sheets of lead. But (strange to say, considering the solemn purpose to which the building is devoted) this lead is painted in alternate stripes of yellow and blue. The Pan- . theon is the most prominent object viewed by the traveller on an approach to Paris, as St. Paul's announces the architectural magnificence of London, to persons jour- neying towards the metropolis of England. But the English cathedral possesses a decided precedence in regard to splendor of distant effect. And, when the traveller draws closer to the Pantheon, and views the party-colored vestment of its cupola, he hails the incongruous pile as a prototype of the temper of modern Transalpine-Gaul, which has a tendency, quite its own, to degrade the noblest resolves of art by the most ridiculous frippery of affectation. In many respects the Pantheon, notwithstanding the tasteless decorations bestowed by those who prefer gaudiness to simplicity, is a rare instance of architectural skill. The vestibule is simple, correct, and grand. The columns which support tiic trian- gular pediment are six feet and a half in diameter; and, as they are of the Corin- thian order, necessarily ascend to the height of sixty-five. A bas relief adorns the pediment, in which the goddess of Liberty is the principal figure ; and, to the credit of the artist, this celestial being is portrayed in the attitude of tender benignity : a vulvar or factious imagination, would have described her as the destroyer of tyranny, and have armed her look with vengeance. On either hand of the grand portal are placed colossal statues on pedestals ; and over each statue is seen a bas relief, one of which illustrates the necessity of veneration for the laws, and another describes Inno- cence, projected by Justice. Our engraving (which is after a drawing made on the ^ •^i^^wMmwmi^^^^m^^^MMm ^^g^^^^^iJM^^^rHr^H JOESIGX FOR THE >I0I«X'ME:XTS IM'THE PAJTTHEOJC AT P-^RIS lan^TuhihU/fusd^ h% W.BW/att^cr''i.1^aa. PANTHEON OF PARIS. 321 spot, in 1802) explains the dissimilar texture of the walls which compose the bra- chia of the crucifix, and the delicate divisons of the vestibule. When we observe that the extreme height of the building is two hundred and sixty- five English feet, it will be readily believed that the effect produced by the interior of the dome is eminently grand and impressive. The inner parts of the edifice are entirely composed of stone, and are ornamented with a variety of pannels beautifully executed. The cemetery is beneath the pavement, and thither were removed, with great solemnity, the ashes of Voltaire and Rousseau. If the shades of these great writers could visit the solemn spot, would they not feel indignant to behold the urn of Marat placed close beside their own ? But how should faction form a due esti- mate of the value of genius ? So great was the hurry of the moment in which the niches of the Pantheon w ere allotted to men intended for immortality, that a mere temporary erection of wood, painted to imitate bronze, was placed in honor of each of those who were first named by the existing power as deserving objects of public gratitude and applause. But it is the merit of the French to design with sublimity; and the annexed sketch of a plan for a cenotaph, in this august pile will show that the virtues of the most exalted, would have been consecrated with conespondent magnificence, had not a diminution of public spirit impeded the intentions of those enlarged minds which projected the modern Pantheon. The reader will perceive from our plate, tliat a pyramidal Egyptian monument was intended to intervene between the arches that form the basement of the dome. It was proposed to engrave hieroglyphical devices on the more elevated part of this erection, explanatory of the talents or achievements of the deceased. The chief efforts of the sculptor would have been required for the superb base of the monu- ment, on which it was proposed to inscribe the honest eulogy dictated by the sen- timents of the nation at large. Here, likewise, it was judged desirable, to place the bust of the departed hero, in conjunction with groups of figures, or such sculptured emblems as might strongly express his peculiar pursuits and virtues. The columns in the design are, it will be perceived, of the Corinthian order ; the architrave, the frieze, and the cornice, are in a suitable style of richness. Of such a description was it intended to compose the monuments of the Pan- theon; and, though the rigid critic may certainly detect many errors of judgment, T T 322 PANTHEON OF PARIS. the magnificence of the design captivates the imagination, and sets the arguments o> criticism at defiance. But " the Fabii and Bruti of Gallia," sleep beneath unho- nored sods ! — Amidst all the imposing splendor of the new empire ; — its legions of honor, its Mameluke guards, its coronation festivities, and its fireworks and illu minations, surely the forlorn patriot must stand aloof, and heave a sigh of bitter regret, while he beholds the building intended for the consecration of public virtue* perverted to the uses of superstition, or tributary to the sordid views of per- sonal ambition ? It is impossible to quit the subject of public sepulture, without noticing the thoughtless want of respect with which the memory of departed excellence is treated by our own countrymen. The public benefactor, and the ornament of his nation dies, and vulgar hands place an undistinguished turf over his remote and obscure grave. What passion and prejudice denied at first, a most scandalous species of inattention or indifference neglects afterwards ; and, at length, the very spot where the ashes of genius are deposited, is forgotten. The remains of Sir Richard Steele, whose active life was entirely dedicated to the service of his country, lie interred in one of the most remote churches of the principality of Wales, without a tablet to inform the traveller, tliat he is to tread with reverence over dust so sacred. A long catalogue of similar instances might be stated ; but let the above suffice ; to enumerate the whole would be painful to recollection, while the scroll would be far from honorable to the character of the nation at large. A writer, w hose sensibility is unquestionable, and whose elegance of language is at least as efficacious as his arguments, has lately published " An Essay on Sepul- chres," in which he proposes, by means of an extensive private subscription, that a cheap and slight memorial, as " a white cross of wood, with a wooden slab at the foot of it, (where the body had been interred in the open air)" should be erected, and rcNtued xchtn subject to decay, " in all ages, on the spot where the remains of the illustrious dead have been interred." The author, likewise, states the pro- priety of forming a map, " wliich might be called the atlas of those "who have lited, and might be marked with meridian lines and circles of latitude so as to ascer- tain, with incredible minuteness, where the ashes of eminent characters repose," Thus, time itself, though the tomb of brass, and the city strong in a million of inhabitants should fall victims, would in vaia struggle to triumph over the tender PANTHEON OF PARIS. 325 uties which kindred feeling must ever be prone to perform at the grave of heroism or genius. The cold calculator will term this scheme romantic ; and the prudent may, per- haps, unite in doubts concerning its feasibility; but any scheme that has liberality for its basis, merits serious consideration. All the noblest feelings of the human breast, call on us to awake from that lethargic indifference with which we have hitherto regarded the ashes of the truly illustrious. 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