LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS. IX 133 134 Gateway. Portcullis and Sentinel on Guard. The Donjon; or Gundulph’s Toweb— showing the Entrance from the South... Sargent. Odo, Bishop of Bayeux and Eabl of Kent. Hebman. Rochester Castle. The Siege by King John, a.d. 1215 . Sarqent. W HIMPEH. Evans. Cooke. WlIIMPElt. 138 140 141 143 The Battlements of the Main Toweb —showing Arcades on the right, where the Castle Chapel is supposed to have been. Sabgent. Archway, with View into the Tilting Yard. Small Toweb of the Castle —showing the thickness of the Outer Walls. Prior. Pbincipal Entrance to the Main Tower— showing the position of the an¬ cient Portcullis. View taken from the Entrance, looking Westward. Prior. The State Prison in Rochester Castle; as it is, and as it was. Prior. State Apartments in the Castle —showing the Norman Architecture. Sargent. Rochester Castle by Moonlight —with the supposed Secret Entrance from the River..... .... Herman. Inner Arched Gallery, surrounding the Apartments. Prior. Evans. 146 W himper. 149 Wall. 153 Rimbault 154 Whimper. 155 O. Smith. 157 Wakefield. 159 Wall. 160 West Gallery of Rochester Castle— showing the Interior, with the Nor¬ man workmanship ... Prior. The Castle Prison. Entrance to the Dungeon, with Staircase and Archway Prior. Rochester Eridge and Castle, from the Medway, looking South . Herman. Gadshill Tavern— the scene of Falstaffs adventure, as it now appears . Prior. Rimbault. 161 Whimper. 162 Niciiolles. 164 Wall. 167 XIV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. View of the South Transept op Netley Abbey, showing the heauty and richness of its Architec¬ ture . Sargent. Impression of the Abbey Seal, with the Wax and Ribbon attached, from the Original . Herman. The Abbot’s Seal, with its Impression and Inscription . Herman. The Great West Window of the Abbey. Sargent. The Fountain-Court of Netley Abbey ...... Sargent. The Confessional, for the Cistercian Brotherhood of the Abbey . Sargent The Sacristy of the Abbey, Vaulted, and Lighted by two Windows . Sargent. The Chapter-House of the Abbey. Sargent. The Abbot’s Kitchen, with the ancient Fireplace . Sargent. The South Front of Netley Abbey. Sargent. Tns Buttery-door of Netley Abbey. Peasants with their Offerings receiv¬ ing the Priest’s Benediction . Sargent. Evans. The Confessional of Netley Abbey, with Confessor and Penitent . Sargent. Evans. Palmer, Pilgrim........ Netley Beach— a Scene on the road to the Sun Inn . Sargent. Evans. Netley Castle, lately used as a public House of Entertainment . Sargent. Evans. 321 323 324 327 329 Plan of Netley Abbey— arrangement of the Buildings. Herman. Styprairii. Allegorical Subject— with Figures and Tomes ... Sargent. View of the Castle of Arundel, from a new Point . Archer. Knight in Armour. Scroll-Head, illustrative of Arundel Castle—West Gateway—“ Owl and Swallow”... Herman. The Baron’s Hall— Minstrelsy in the Olden Time —Syr Bevis. Archer. Vignette—Tilting Helmet, Sword, and Shield. Piscina in Abbey Church, St. Albans, referred to in the Text ... Prior. Ancient Armour of Eltham Hall—“ The Duke’s Study”... Archer. Discovery of Harold’s Body, after the Battle of Hastings, by his Mistress, “ Edith with the Swan’s neck”.... Archer. Head of King Charles I. as Prisoner in Carisbrooke Castle. Law. The Abbot of Netley’s Mitre and Crosier. Sargent. Evans. 331 Giles. 335 336 DelAmotte. 337 Dalziel. 338 341 Jackson. 343 Dalziel. 345 Dalziel, 348 Jackson. 350 Evans. 352 list nf Slltistmtmns. Allegorical Vignette... Sargent. Arms and Abbatial Trophies of St. Albans. Herman. Architectural Scroll-Head and Trophies of Eltham Hall. Herman. Evans. v Delamotte. vii Delamotte. viii Military Scroll and Arms of Rochester Ca Herman. Delamotte. Castle.] GALLERY—DINING-ROOM—BARONS’ HALL. 31 Howard,” and of various other members of the same house, by the eminent painters of the day. In the furnishing of these state apartments there is little to excite attention; it combines elegance with simplicity, but contains nothing gorgeous in colour or texture. The woodwork is nearly mahogany throughout. Nothing, how¬ ever, could be more out of place—a wood that has been known in this country little more than a century, is ill associated with the Gothic ornaments of a baronial hall. Old English oak is, beyond doubt, that which best harmonizes with our ideas in such places. A piece of old oak carving is an object of never- failing interest to the mind of an antiquary; but in Arundel Castle we observed no specimens of native ‘ gnarled oak,’ except in the “ Windsor rooms.” tUdjC UMmng=room —formed, as we have already mentioned, out of the ancient family chapel—is a lofty, spacious, well-proportioned room, and chiefly remarkable for its great window of stained glass, which still throws “ a religious light” over the banquet. It is quite modem, and the historical subject selected for its embellishment is the Meeting of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba—portraits of the late Duke and Duchess-dowager of Norfolk. “ On each side is a beautiful transparency on plate-glass—one representing the Mercy- seat in the Jewish tabernacle, the pillars protected by cherubim, with Aaron’s pitcher and rod lying at the foot of the altar; the other is a fine representation of the Interior of the Tabernacle, as transmitted to us in the Biblical account ; and both serving to soften and modify the light as it falls on the great painting in the centre *. The interior of the 23arortS’ flJaU, however, is by far the most interesting apartment in the Castle, and claims a high station among the banquet-rooms of modern times. It was designed, in connexion with the chapel already noticed, to commemorate the triumph of the Barons over King John, by the signing of the Great Charter at Runnymede. Its architecture, like that of the appendant chapel, is in the style of the fourteenth centmy. It is seventy-one feet in length by thirty-five in breadth, lofty in proportion, and, as a whole, produces a striking effect on the spectator. The roof consists of Spanish chestnut, elaborately carved in imitation of the richest Gothic originals, with numerous combinations, emblematical groups, and curious workmanship. The See list of authorities at tire end of this subject, also Append, to this volume. C'ASTLIt.j DAMIETTA.—FITZALAN.—BATTLE OF LEWES. commanded the royal forces at Fomham in Suffolk, and gained a complete victory over the rebellious sons of King Henry—in whose unnatural cause the disaffected at home had been joined by a numerous body of foreigners—and took prisoners the Earl of Leicester, with his Countess and all his retinue of knights. Albiui was a great benefactor of the church ; he built “ the abbey of Buckenham; endowed various prebends in Winchester; founded the priory of Pynham, near Arundel; the chapel of St. Thomas at Wymundham,” and died at Waverley in Surrey. To Albini’s son and grandson we have already adverted, but conclude with a brief incident in the life of William, the third earl of his family. When the banner of the cross was waving under the walls of Damietta, and the chivalry of Christendom flew to the rescue, the gallant Albiui was too keenly alive to the cause to resist the summons. In that severe struggle, he hoped to acquire those laurels which would leave all other trophies in the shade ; and with the flower of our English chivalry embarked for the Holy Land, and served at the siege of that fortress. Two years he re¬ mained a staunch supporter of the cross—a soldier whom no dangers could dismay, no difficulties intimidate; and long after his com¬ panions had returned to the white cliffs of Albion, the lion-standai'd of Albini shone in the van of the Christian army. On his way home, however, he had only strength to reach an obscure town in the neighbourhood of Civita Vecchia, near Home, where he was taken ill and expired. His eldest son, the fourth earl, died without issue ; and the short life of his successor, Hugh de Albini, appears to have passed without any remarkable event or incident, save latterly in active warfare in France, where, at the battle of Taillebourg, in Guienne, he displayed, though ineffectually, the hereditary valour of his family. The first of the Fitzalans who held the title and estates of Arundel was appointed one of the Lord Marchers, or Wardens of the Welsh Border; and found to his cost that the Ancient Britons did not submit to the daily encroach¬ ment made upon their rights and hereditary privileges, without having frequent and formidable recourse to arms. He maintained a high station at court, was admitted to the royal confidence, and had the “ command of the Castle of Rochester when the approach of the King’s forces compelled the disaf¬ fected Barons to raise the siege.” At the battle of Lewes he distinguished himself * 120 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Palace was called for, and the king made the Earl Marshal rise, for he addressed him on his knees. On the Earl Derby’s arrival, who thought no harm, the Earl Marshal spoke as follows :•— 1 Earl of Derby, I charge you with having thought and spoken disrespectfully of your natural lord the king of England, when you said he was unworthy to hold the crown; that without law or justice, or con¬ sulting his council, he disturbed the realm; and that without any shadow of reason, he banished those valiant men from his kingdom who ought to be its defenders; for all of which I present my glove, and will prove, my body against yours, that you are a false and wicked traitor.’ “ The Earl of Derby was confounded at this address, and retired a few paces without demanding from the Duke his father, or any of his friends, how he should act. Having mused awhile, he advanced with his hood in his hand towards the king, and said, 1 Earl Marshal, I say that thou art a false and wicked traitor, which I will boldly prove on thee, and here is my glove!’ The Earl Marshal seeing his challenge was accepted, showed a good desire for the combat by taking up the glove and saying, 1 1 refer your answer to the good pleasure of the king and the lords now present. I will prove that your words are false, and that my words are true.’ Each of those lords then withdrew in company of his friends, and the time for serving wine and spices was passed by; for the king showed he was sore displeased, and retiring to his chamber, shut himself in. . . . When the day for the combat was at hand, and the two lords waited only for the king’s commands, King Richard’s secret advisers asked, 1 Sire, what is your pleasure respecting this combat ? will you permit your two cousins the Earl of Derby and Earl Marshal to proceed ?’ 1 Why not ?’ replied the king; 1 1 intend to be present myself and see their prowess.’ The king’s advisers showed great firmness in resisting his deter¬ mination, and showed him some very cogent and unexpected reasons for his adopting another course, at which,” as the chronicler relates, “the king changed colour. Shortly after, a great council of the chief nobles and prelates was summoned at Eltham. The Earl of Derby and the Earl Marshal were sent for and put into separate chambers, for they were not permitted to meet, when after certain preliminaries the king’s pleasure was thus delivered in presence of the assembly: 1 1 order that the Earl Marshal, for having caused trouble in this kingdom, by uttering words which he could not prove other¬ wise than by common report, be banished the realm for life. I also order that the Earl of Derby our cousin, for having angered us, and because he has been in some measure the cause of the Earl Marshal’s crime and punishment, prepare to leave the kingdom in fifteen days, and be banished hence for the term of ten years.’” Our readers will find other particulars in Eroissart; but our chief inducement in selecting these passages is, their being scenes 128 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OE ENGLAND. [The Palace it may not be superfluous to remark that the structure is held together by the assistance of nails.* ^outerratns. —Of the subterranean passages lately discovered at Eltham Palace, the following facts are contained in a small pamphlet on the subject, published at Greenwich. Tradition has always kept up the belief of an underground passage from Eltham Palace to Blackheath, Greenwich, or the River; and it was affirmed in the neighbourhood that at Middle Park, connected with the passages, there was stable-room under ground for sixty horses. Under the floor of one of the apartments of the palace, a trap-doorf opens into a room under-ground, ten feet by five, and proceeding from it, a narrow passage about ten feet in length, conducts the stranger to the series of passages with decoys, stairs, and shafts, some of which are vertical, and others on an inclined plane, which were once used for admitting air, and for hurling down missiles upon enemies, according to the modes of defence then in use. And it is worthy of notice that, at points where weapons from above could assail the enemy with the greatest effect, there the shafts are made to verge and concentrate. About five hundred feet of these passages have been entered and passed through in a western direction towards Middle Park, and under the moat to the extent of two hundred feet. The arch is broken down in the field leading from Eltham to Mottingham, but still the brickwork can be traced further, and proceeding in the same direction. The remains of two iron gates, completely carbonized, were found in that part of the passage under the moat; and large stalactites formed of super-carbonate of lime hung down from the roof of the arch, which sufficiently indicated the time that must have elapsed since these passages were last entered. (JBnimonS.—Shooter’s-hill, the well-known landmark in this part of Kent, is within a very short walk of Eltham Hall. The tower commands a beautiful prospect of the metropolis, Greenwich, Woolwich, the Thames, and the adja¬ cent counties, and thus forms the centre of a most extensive panorama.:]: It was erected by Lady James, in honour of her husband Sir William James, Baronet, who commanded the Company’s marine forces in the East Indies, and in 1755, distinguished himself, by the taking of Severndroog Castle, on the coast of * Buckler’s Eltham Hall. f This is in the open court, and, being exposed to the rain, cannot be explored with convenience but in summer, when the subterraneous passages on which it opens, are accessible. J Sed memorabilis amceuitas penb citius animum quam oeulos diffudit aspectu, non Britannid tantum, sed fortasse tota Europa pulcherrimo! Ingens planities aliquot suspensa colliculis, rursus monies in orbem effusi, neque cito castigabant oeulos, neque illos per immensum coelum spargebant. Tamesis lastissima ubertate in viciniam exndat, et ad radices montis red- euntibus ni gyrum fluctibus insulam pene molitur. Passim toto alveo naves, et omnis generis onerariae: ut proximas quidam totas aspicerem cseterum longius stantes, ant sub altiori ripa, ex malis antennisque tantum nudam ut brumalem sylvam cognoscerem.— Lysons—Barclaii Icon. Animorum, 518.—1614. ■ ' . 150 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Castle so as to draw off part of the enemy’s force and divert his attention from the design in progress, he then ordered vessels to be filled with combustibles, and setting fire to them, sent them adrift on the stream, which, running strong at this point, bore them immediately down against the wooden bridge which then crossed the river. The bridge having caught fire, the smoke and flames which issued from the timber arches drove the enemy from their position in the centre of the bridge, where they had charge of a tower, with a drawbridge which cut off all communication with the opposite side. During the obscurity and confusion which this stratagem occasioned, Montfort, seizing the favourable instant, passed the river in boats, and commenced his attack upon the out¬ posts with such resolution and success that he entered the city in the evening of Good Friday—spoiled the Church, and vigorously attacked the Castle. Warren and his gallant supporters, however, defended the citadel with such courage and determination that, after a siege of seven days and nights, Leicester had only captured some of the outworks. Yet owing to the state of the Castle at that time, it is very probable that had the siege been continued only a short time longer, it must have fallen into his hands. But the great cause in which he had embarked demanding his presence in London, which was threatened with a hostile visitation from the king, he drew off the main body of his army to defend the capital, and thus the Castle of Rochester was spared the disgrace of another surrender. Shortly after this, Montfort, as Earl of Leicester, fought the battle of Lewes, where, as already described in a former part of this work, he gained a victory which richly compensated for the sudden retreat from the Castle of Rochester. Subsequently to this period, the Castle of Count Odo—as this fortress is sometimes called—continued to be held by successive constables, men of high military standing in the country. But from the above period downwards it has not been the scene of any remarkable event, and consequently its history is little more than an enumeration of its castellans and the local incidents and irritations with which their caprice or authority diversified the not always “even tenor” of their sway *. The chief duty in which they appear to have latterly engaged X was that * Between the reign of Henry the Third and that of Edward the Fourth, who contributed the last repairs to the Castle, Guy de Rochfort, one of the King’s foreign minions—William de St. Clare, Robert de Houghan, Robert de Septuans, Stephanus de Dene—“a great enemy to the monks ”—William Slcarlett, and William Keriel, had each in turn the custody of this fortress; but they have left behind them no remark¬ able traits of character.—Hist, of Rochester. f One incident, however, may be mentioned, namely; in 1382, the fifth year of Richard the Second, while the rebellion of Wat Tyler was at its height, a party of the insurgents had the hardihood to lay siege to Rochester Castle, and penetrating into the interior, carried off a prisoner in triumph. (History of Rochester Castle, 34.) From all the information re¬ corded respecting this fortress, it has never apparently sustained a siege with that degree of obstinacy which its 180 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Abbey other good gifts, appropriated the church of Lantrissant to the ahbot and con¬ vent in succession, from which they received fifty marks annually. Dying without issue, he was buried on the right side of the high altar at Tewkesbury. Iiis widow was afterwards united in marriage to Gwido de Bryen, knight— said by some writers to have been of the Thomond family in Ireland, and by others, of the O’Briens of Castle Walwaine in Pembrokeshire—who was buried along with a numerous line of illustrious persons near the high altar in St. Margaret’s—or, as it was subsequently called, O’Brien’s Chapel*—one of the chief sepulchral ornaments of the church. This posthumous distinction was seemed by very substantial benefits conferred on the church in his lifetime.f The tombs of the illustrious individuals above mentioned are all more or less visible from the same point, and the coup-d’oeil is very impressive. This distinguished of the monastery died near the close of the fourteenth century; when the nephew of his wife—Edward, the second |son of Hugh le Despenser the younger—took possession, in right of his aunt, of the old family estates of De Clare, among which were Hanley Castle, Tewkesbury Manor, and Malvern Chase. This nobleman espoused Anne, daughter of Lord Ferrers, and by this marriage left issue four sons, Edward, Thomas, Henry, and Gilbert. Edward, who was made Knight of the Garter and summoned to Parliament in the thirty-first year of Edward the Third, succeeded to the estates of Earl Hugh, his uncle, and married Elizabeth, daughter of Lord Bartholomew de Burghurst, the king’s chamberlain. He commanded the rear of the English army during their fatiguing and perilous march from Calais to Bordeaux in 1373. He gave a cup of gold to the monastery, and a precious jewel, says the Chronicle of Tewkesbury, “ won¬ derfully contrived to hold the sacrament on solemn days.” His eldest son, Edward, died early at Cardiff Castle, and, with two other children, a brother and sister, was buried in the family vault at Tewkesbury. At his death, two years after the expedition above mentioned, Edward left a son, named Thomas, and three daughters, Elizabeth, Anne, and Margaret, and was buried in the Abbey church of Tewkesbury, before the vestry door, near the * Hist, and Antiq. of Tewkesb.—Dugdale, Chron. mass of the Holy Cross on Friday, the mass of St. f To the office of sacrist in the Abbey of Tewkes- Mary on Saturday—twenty-one pence weekly. Far- bury he appropriated certain rents in Bristol: and to ther, to him who should celebrate mass on his anni- the priest who should say the first mass for the soul versary, or on that of his wife Elizabeth—if the of the said Guy every day at the altar of St. Marga- abbot, five shillings; if the prior, three shillings and ret in the church of Tewkesbury, with certain prayers four-pence: to him who should read the Gospel, to the specified for his surviving kindred, and his kindred de- reader of the Epistle, to him who should hold the ceased, the mass of the Trinity on Sunday, the mass paten, and to the precentor and his two assistants, of the Holy Ghost on Monday, the mass of St. eight-pence each; to the prior twelve-pence, and to Thomas on Tuesday, the mass of the Holy Best on every monk four-pence.—Monast. Anglican. I. 157. Wednesday, the mass of Ascension on Thursday, the of Tewkesbury.] PREPARATIONS FOR THE BATTLE. 203 herselfe to flie into Wales, to Jasper, Earle of Pembroke. But the Duke of Somerset willyng in no wise to flie backward, for doubts that he casted might chaunce by the way, determined there to tarrye to take suche fortune as God woulde sende.” When Oxford advised that, for another day at least, and un til Pembroke’s reinforcements should have arrived, the Queen should not hazard a battle, where in point of numbers the chances were so much against her,—and added that if she did, her advisers would u think of it ere night,”— “ Not fight to-day I” cried Somerset: “ Thy words would tempt me to forget That I have seen thee play a part Which vouches for thy manly heart. ‘Think on’t ere night!’ Why, what care I? ’Tis now we’re call’d by Destiny! Yes, Oxford, I do hope thy sword, Ere this bright mom has pass’d away, Shall proudly contradict thy word— Yes, Oxford, we must fight to-day I" This resolution having been confirmed by the sanction of the Queen; the Prince, her son, exclaims, in bitter remembrance of the field of Barnet, in which both the Nevils had perished— “ Is’t not time To close the scene of woe and crime! This hour shall close it! Ne’er again Will I turn hack from battle-plain A beaten fugitive! Ere Even With parting smile shall gild the west, This sword shall triumph win, or rest— Victory on earth, or—peace in heaven.” Hereupon u the Duke of Somerset, like a pollitike warriour, trenched hys campe round about of such an altitude, and so strongly, that his enemyes by no means easily could make any entry; and further, perceiuyng that his part could neuer escape without battaile, determined there to see the ende of hys goode or yll chaunce; wherefore he marshalled his hoste after this maner: he and the lord Iohn of Somerset, his brother, led the forewarde; the middle warde was gouemed by the Prince, under the conduyte of the Lord of Saint Iohns and Lorde Wenlocke, whome King Edward had highly before preferred, and promoted to the degree of a baron.” [This fact the chronicler mentions in order, probably, to account for his subsequent conduct, and to justify the suspicion that he was not a hearty partisan in the queen’s cause.] u The rere-warde was put in the rule of the Earle of Deuonshire. When all these battayles were thus ordered and placed, the Queene and her sonne, Prince Edwarde, rode about the fielde encouraging their souldiors, promisyng to them, 216 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Castle all of which he was to have, whether he were at Kenilworth or not, from the time he should assume the habit of religion, except on such days as he should have entertainment in that monastery.” These worthy brethren, like the fraternity of Melrose, appear to have been no eschewers of “ faire cookerye and good drinke.” “ The jolly monks they made good kail On Fridays when they fasted, Nor wanted they good beef and ale As long as their neighbours’ lasted.” u But,” says Dugdale (Baron, art. Clinton), u this Henry, 1 who had sold his heritage for a sop,’ quitted to King John all his right in Kenilworth Castle, and in the woods and pools, with whatsoever else appertained thereto; excepting what he did possess at the death of Henry the Second. By his wife, Amicia de Bidun, he left issue Henry, his son and heir, who having been in arms with the rebellious barons, returned to obedience 2 d0 Henry the Third, assuring the king of his future fidelity; whereupon he had livery of those lands in Kenilworth which descended to him by the death of his father; but dying without issue, his estates passed into the families of his three sisters, Amicabile, Isabel, and Agnes, who severally married Lucas de Columbers, Ralph Fitz-John, and Warine de Bragenham. From this epoch in the histoiy of Kenilworth, to the time when it was given by King Henry to Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, as a marriage portion with his daughter, the Castle continued to be crown property. This alliance took place in 1253, and by various documents extant it appears that considerable sums were expended at intervals in repairs and embellishments of the royal fortress. Simon de Montfort, however, by joining the barons, as already mentioned in the history of Rochester Castle, made shipwreck of his fortune. At the battle of Evesham—a day on which, as the Monk of Gloucester observes, u the very heaven appeared in its most appalling hues”— Montfort, with his son Henry and many individuals of high rank, died on the field. “ At the home of his death,” says another chronicle, u it thundered and lightened, and so great a darkness spread the sky that men were sore amazed.” “ A cruell and bloodye battayle it was,” says the annalist; 11 after which, in despite of the erle, some malicious persons cut off his head, mutilating him otherwise with a barbaritie too disgusting to mention. His feet also, and handes, were cut off from the body and sent to sundrie places, and the truncke of hys bodye was buryed within the church of Euisham.” But all this met afterwards with a singular retribution of ven¬ geance at Yiterbo, in Italy, as recorded by Rymer, Muratori, and others. The king had hitherto been a prisoner in the camp of the barons, captured of Kenilworth.] DEATH OF LEICESTER—SURVEY OF THE CASTLE. 239 country ceremonials, was celebrated under the observance of the Queen. Every hour had its peculiar sport. A famous Italian tumbler displayed feats of agility; morris-dancers went through their rude evolutions, by way of interlude; and thirteen bears were baited for the gratification of the courtiers! During the Queen’s stay, five gentlemen were honoured with knighthood, and 11 nyne persons were cured of the peynful and daungerous deseaz called the King’s Evil.”—Letter from a freend officer attendant in the coourt unto his freend a citizen and merchaunt of London, in this Somerz Progrest, 1575. After this splendid reception given to her Majesty at Kenilworth, and which cost the noble host a thousand pounds per diem, Leicester continued to make the Castle his favourite residence. i)tS Tjeatf) he bequeathed it to his brother Ambrose Earl of Warwick for life, and after him to his own son Sir Robert Dudley, who wandered abroad till his father’s death, when he returned, and challenged his right to the family dignities; which being denied, he deter¬ mined to quit for ever a country in which he had experienced so much injus¬ tice. To complete this long scene of iniquity, James I. seized the estates by virtue of Mary’s statute of fugitives; but, in order to avoid the odium which so tyrannical an act justly merited, obliged Sir Robert to consent to a nominal sale of them to Henry Prince of Wales, at one third of their value, and even that was never paid. Thus this great property was unjustly drawn back to the same source from which, with so little merit, it had been originally derived. —See Lodge’s Illustrations of British History.—Letters. Sbutbtg by the King’s Commissioners. The following survey of Kenil¬ worth Castle and the demesne thereto adjoining, which was made at this time, conveys a splendid idea of a baronial residence. (Our authority is Dugdale.) The Castle is described as situated on a rock; the circuit whereof within the walls containeth seven acres; and upon the walls are walks so spacious and fair, that two or three persons together may walk upon most places thereof. The Castle and the four gatehouses are all built of freestone, hewn and cut: the walls in many places are ten and fifteen feet in thickness, some more, some less, the least four feet. The Castle and the four gatehouses aforesaid are all Kenilworth.] SIR ROBERT DUDLEY—VIEW FROM THE TILT-YARD. 251 sonbut notwithstanding this paternal stigma, there is every ground to believe that he was bom in wedlock: for it appeared by depositions after¬ wards taken on oath in the Star Chamber, that the Earl of Leicester had been lawfully married to his mother, the Lady Douglas Sheffield, by a clergyman, according to the form prescribed by the Church of England. But by the interest of the Lady Letitia, widow to the Earl of Essex, whom Leicester had married some time before his death, these depositions were ordered to be sealed up by the Clerk of the Court, and never more to be seen or published; whilst at the same time a censure was passed upon the deponents as having entered into a conspiracy to defame the Dowager Lady Leicester, and unjustly to entitle Sir Robert Dudley to the honours which had been enjoyed by his ancestors. The unfairness, the palpable injustice of such proceedings, filled his mind with such disgust, that he determined, as already mentioned, to abandon the country of his birth; and having obtained the King’s permission to travel for three years, proceeded to Italy, where he took up his residence in the Tuscan capital with “ the style of Earl of Warwick.” But having left several enemies at home, who watched every opportunity to wrest from him his princely inheritance of LUntlfuortf), his absence was construed into dis¬ affection; and a special Privy Seal being obtained for that purpose, he was commanded to return home forthwith. But fully aware of the motive of Waltham.] DISPUTES BETWEEN THE ABBOT AND THE TOWN. 271 justices itinerant. Then the townspeople reviled the abbot in presence of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, the king’s brother, who had come to Waltham Abbey the same day; and, hastening to the marsh, they drove away the abbot’s mares and colts—drowning three, valued at twenty shillings; spoiling ten more, worth ten marks; and beating the keepers who resisted them, even to the shedding of blood. On the abbot’s return from Lincolnshire, the people of Waltham, apprehensive of the consequences of their violent proceedings, desired a love-day to settle the dispute; but suddenly changing their minds, they went to the king at London, and made a complaint against the abbot, that he was infringing their rights, introducing new customs, and, as they expressed it, that he was “ eating them up to the bones.” The abbot, in retaliation, excommunicated them; and they impleaded him at the common law. After many hearings, the abbot, as the stronger party, gained the cause; and the people of Waltham were obliged to acknowledge that they had done him wrong, and they were fined twenty marks; but, on their sub¬ mission, he remitted the fine, and relieved them from the sentence of excom¬ munication.* In the same reign, the abbot of Waltham became involved in a law¬ suit with the lord of the neighbouring manor of Cheshunt, who was, at that time, Peter Duke of Savoy, the king’s uncle, and therefore a powerful opponent. Both parties laid claim to certain meadow lands which lay between two branches of the river Lea, one asserting that the eastern stream, the other that the western stream, was the boundary line between their The account of these disputes is chiefly taken from Fuller, and from Farmer’s History of Waltham Abbey. 290 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Castle family under another and more appropriate head of the work in hand. He died without issue; directing by will, that his body should be interred in the Conventual church of Bustleham, founded by his father; that every day, until his corpse should arrive at that place, seventy-five shillings should be distributed in alms to three hundred poor; that twenty-four poor persons, each dressed in a gown of black cloth with a red hood, should bear torches of eight pounds weight on the day of his funeral: also, that there should be nine wax lights and three 1 mortars’ of wax about his body, and banners of his arms placed on every pillar of the church; moreover, that thirty pounds should be given to the monks to sing trentals and pray for his soul; and lastly, that his executors should expend five hundred marks in finishing the sacred struc¬ ture at Bustleham, and in erecting a tomb there for his father and mother; and another for himself and his son, who had married the daughter of Bichard, Earl of Arundel, and was killed in the tilting-match already mentioned. The above ceremonial, as related by Dugdale, presents so striking a sketch of the manners of the time, and of the u pomp and circumstance” which this lord of the island had “willed” should commemorate his final departure, that we have inserted it by way of colouring to the general picture. The black gowns—scarlet hoods—lugubrious chant—blazing torches—waving banners—waxen tapers and mortars—all unite to form a spectacle that must have left a vivid impression on the minds of the spectators. The ceremony which attended the obsequies of his widow is no less curious as a picture of the times, and will be found in the same authority. It is supposed that this nobleman, during his lordship of the isle, contributed several important alterations and repairs to the castle; a circumstance which is rendered more probable by the arms of the family, consisting of three lozenges, being placed on a buttress at the corner of part of the governor’s lodging. The next per¬ sonage who figured as lord of Carisbrooke was iEbfcoarb, IScld Of IRutlanb, son of Edmund de Langley, fifth son of Edward III., and Duke of Albemarle, whose numerous posts of high honour and public trust evince the entire confidence reposed in him by King Bichard, who found him but too pliant an instrument in the execution of his atrocious designs, of which some notice has already been taken in our account of the “ Fitzalan Conspiracy.” The crimes, however, to which he was then accessary, and which, by the confiscations which ensued, added greatly to his possessions, brought at last the stroke of retribution; for on Bolingbroke’s ascending the throne, he was degraded in rank. He then entered into a conspiracy to take away the King’s life at Windsor; but confessing the treason, was pardoned, restored to honour and confidence, inherited his father’s title as Duke of York, and, after having filled the high post of Lieutenant of the Duchy of Aquitaine, OF Carisbeooke.] KING OP THE ISLE—SIR EDWARD WYDEVILLE. 291 fell at last in the battle of Agincourt. Leaving no family, he was succeeded in his rights to the castle and manor of CauSbl'QQhc and the island, by his surviving duchess, Philippa, daughter of John, Lord de Mohun, Baron of Dunster. To this lady succeeded, in the seventeenth of Henry VI., “ tlje Cfiootl,” Duke of Gloucester, whose character and death have been already detailed in our account of St. Albans. He appears to have been Seignior of Carisbrooke and the Isle of Wight during a period of eight years; and after his death the office of Constable of Carisbrooke was held by Henry Tranchard, in virtue of a royal grant. But the greatest event in the history of the castle and the island at this time, was the coronation of a King of the Isle of Wight in the person of ff^enrg 23cattdjamp, Duke of Warwick, son of Richard, Earl of Warwick, who had previously filled the high office of Regent of France. u Henricus Comes de Warwic a rege Henrico 6 t0 . cui charissimus erat coronatus est in regem de Wight et postea nominatus primus comes totius Angina” At this august ceremony the king- assisted in person, and with his own hands placed the crown on the head of his subject-monarch—but to whom the title of king conveyed no regal power, and invested him with no authority in the island; the lordship of which was still possessed by Duke Humphrey, who survived the new-made and short¬ lived king for some time. To this youthful sovereign — u cropt in the flower of his youth, and before his heroic virtues could be known,” we have already alluded in the historical notice of Tewkesbury; and in that of Warwick will be found several interesting particulars of his family and political connexions. Subsequent to this period of its history, the lordship of the castle and island appears to have been successively enjoyed by Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York; Edmund, Duke of Somerset; Henry his son; Anthony, Earl Rivers; and Sir Edward Wydeville his brother, who was appointed to the Captaincy of the island immediately after the accession of Henry VII. Of Sir Edward, the following incidents are recorded by Holinshed, Dugdale, Worsley, and 310 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Abbey ‘ No more the votaries of each time-shook pile, As ruin’s heirs, shall call these shades their own; For blazon’d arms explore the pageant aisle, Or search dark registers of faithless stone.’ He spoke—resolved. The menaced arches frown’d, The conscious walls in sudden conflict join’d, Crush’d the pale wretch in one promiscuous wound, And left this monument of wrath behind.” The appearance of this church shows that its ultimate destruction has been the work of accident, rather than of design; although a story of a less doubtful character informs us, that we owe the preservation of the building in its present condition to a retributary accident, resembling that of the legend just mentioned. We have already stated that, about the commencement of the last century, the materials of the abbey were sold to a person of the name of Taylor, who resided at Southampton. His friends, who looked with superstitious feelings on this venerable pile, urged him not to conclude the bargain, and advised him to abstain from being instrumental in the work of sacrilege; but he was deaf to their entreaties. He had scarcely taken posses¬ sion of his purchase, when in his sleep he was visited by a fearful dream, in which it appeared to him that the key-stone of one of the arches,* which was to be demolished first, fell upon his head, and fractured his skull. Although troubled in mind, he at first paid no attention to this dream; but when it was repeated more than once, he ventured to disclose it to a friend. That friend was Mr. Watts, a schoolmaster in Southampton, the father of the celebrated Dr. Isaac Watts. He advised Taylor to desist from the under¬ taking; but the avarice of the latter overcame all scruples or fears, and he returned to the work of demolition. He had hardly begun, when, in exerting himself to tear down a board, he loosened the identical stone which had been represented to him in his dream, and which in its fall struck him a violent blow on the head. He was carried home, and his skull was found to be slightly fractured, but no apprehensions were entertained of serious con¬ sequences. The surgeon, however, in probing the wound, accidentally thrust his instrument into the brain, and caused instant death. The fate of Taylor is said to have acted as an effectual check to future depredations of a similar kind. The arches of the ^outj) '^Transept of Netley Abbey Church are peculiarly elegant and graceful; although, like those of the nave and choir, they are devoid of the rich and diminutive ornamentation which characterizes the architecture of a somewhat later period. Above the lower series of arches, a passage or corridor runs round this part of the building, which is approached by a small spiral staircase in the corner between the transept and the choir. The legend says it was the key-stone of the east window; but that is still standing. 322 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Abbey concerning the monks of St. Swithun’s at Winchester:—One day, when King Henry II. was hunting in the neighbourhood of Guilford, the prior of St. Swithun’s, accompanied by a party of his monks, went to meet him, with countenances which indicated extreme chagrin and sorrow, and, although the spot was little better than a quagmire, they fell upon their knees in a position of the most abject supplication. When the king desired them to state their griefs, they told him that their bishop had diminished the number of courses that had been from time immemorial served to their table. The king inquired what number of courses were usually allowed them: they said, thirteen, which the bishop had reduced to ten. The king, in astonishment, tinned round to his attendants :—“ Per oculos Dei!” said he, (for that was his usual oath,) 11 see here these unhappy monks! I thought by their sorrowful looks that their whole monastery had been burnt, or that some equal disaster had befallen them; and, behold, they complain that their bishop has taken three courses from their table, and left them but ten. May the bishop fare the worse, if he do not immediately take away the ten, and leave them only three! I, although King of England, am satisfied with that number.” We are told, in another monkish story, of an abbot who was so cruel to his monks, that he reduced them to the number here recommended by the king, and allowed them but three courses: the monks prayed daily for the death of their superior; and for this or some other cause he soon died. Another came, who reduced them to two: whereupon they prayed more fervently than ever for release from his rule. He also died; and there came a third, who deprived them of another course. The unfortunate brethren, now driven to desperation, met together to consider what was best to be done. One among the rest stepped forward and said, “ Happen what will, let us pray no longer: every time we have prayed for a new abbot, we have obtained one worse than his predecessor; and if this man should go, we shall have one who will reduce us to actual starvation.” Against the monkish vice of gluttony, we must however place in the scale the virtue of hospitality. The weary traveller was always welcome to the table of the monastery. We are tempted to quote another monkish story. It is said that a certain religious house, in which the virtue just alluded to had been neglected, was reduced to poverty, and a meeting was held in the chapter- house to deliberate on the means of regaining their former state. Then a monk stood up in the midst of the others, and said, u We have driven away et medonem, atque moretum, et omne quod inebriare inter fercula.—Giraldus Cambr. Specul. Eccles. in potest, adeo ut cervisia qualis in Anglia fieri solet MS. Cotton. He is here speaking of the Cistercian optima, et praxipue in Cantia, locum inter csetera non monks of Canterbury, haberet; sed hoc ibi cervisia inter pocula, quod olus Carisbrooke Castle.] WILLIAM FITZOSBORNE. 349 p. 284.—Of the circum¬ stances mentioned in the text, the following is the relation given by the learned monk already quoted :— u Rogerius verb de Britolio, Comes Herefordensis ad curiam regis vocatus venit, et inquisitus manifestam toti mundo prodi- tionem negare non potuit. Igitur secundum leges Normanorum judicatus est, et amissa omni hsereditate terrena, in carcere Regis perpetub damnatus est. Ihi etiam Regi multoties detraxit, et contumacibus actis, implacabiliter offendit. Nam quondam, dum plebs Dei Paschale festum congrub celebraret, et Rex structum preciosarum vestium Rogerio Comiti per idoneos satellites in ergastulo mitteret; ille pyram ingentem antb se jussit prseparari, et ibidem, Regalia omamenta, chlamydem sericamq’ interalam, et renonem de preciosis pellibus peregrinorum murium subitb combui'i. Quod audiens Rex iratus dixit: 1 Multiim superbus est qui hoc mihi dedecus fecit; sed, per splendorem Dei , de carcere mea in omni vita mea non exibit.’ Sententia regis tam fixa permansit, qubd nec etiam post mortem Regis ipse, nisi mortuus, de vinculis exiit. Rainaldus et Rogerius filii ejus, optimi tirones, Henrico Regi famu- lantur et clementiam ejus—qua? tardissima iis visa est—in duris agonibus prsestolantur.” In commenting upon the above passage, a learned writer has made the following remarks:—“ It appears from the text that Roger, Earl of Hereford, was brought to his trial before the king’s court, or council of the proceres , or great men of the kingdom, and was condemned by them to suffer perpetual imprisonment, with the loss of all his inheritance. So that, in this instance, as well as in the case of Ralph de Guader, the said court or council appear to have acted as a court of criminal jurisdiction. But it seems remarkable that the judgment they passed upon this great and notorious rebel, who could not, and did not, deny the crime he was charged with, should not have extended to his life; more especially, as Waltheof, Earl of Northampton, who had refused to have any share in the rebellion raised by the other two earls, and had only been guilty of concealing his knowledge of their intentions, was, in a short time after, condemned to lose his life for that lesser offence, and was, as stated in the text, actually beheaded at Winchester. One would almost suspect that they were tried by two different laws; namely, Roger, Lord of the Isle of Wight, who was a Norman, by the law of Nor¬ mandy ; and Waltheof, Earl of Northampton, who was an Englishman, by the law of England; and that the Norman law of that period did not punish high treason with death, although the English law did. With respect to the 50 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [ARUNDKL ment by the hands of the Archbishop, they resolved to seize the person of King .Richard the Second, and his brothers the Dukes of Lancaster and York, to commit them to prison, and cause the lords of the King’s Council to be drawn and hanged. This plot, however, was divulged, it is said, by the Earl Marshal, and the apprehension of Arundel led to the family catastrophe, which with some little abridgment of the original authors is related as follows :— Apprehended under assurances of personal security, he was hurried to the Tower, and finally tried and condemned by the Parliament at Westminster. On the feast of St. Matthew, Richard Fitz Alaine, Earl of Arundel, was brought forth to swear before the King and whole Parliament to such articles as he was charged with.* * And as he stood at the bar, the Lord Nevile was commanded by the Duke of Lancaster, which sat that day as High Steward of England, to take the hood from his neck, and the girdle from his waist. Then the Duke of Lancaster declared unto him that for his manifold rebellions and treasons against the king’s majesty, he had been arrested, and hitherto kept in ward, and now at the petitions of the lords and commons, he was called to answer such crimes as were there to be objected against him, and so to purge himself, or else to suffer for his offences, such punishment as the law appointed. First he charged him that he had ridden in armour against the King in company of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Earl of Warwick, to the breach of peace and disquieting of the realm. His answer hereunto was, that he did not this upon any evil meaning towards the Kin g’s person, but rather for the benefit of the King and realm, if it were interpreted aright and taken as it ought to be. It was further demanded of him, why he procured letters of pardon from the King, if he knew himself guiltless. He answered he did not purchase them for any fear he had of faults committed by him, but to stay the malicious speech of them that neither loved the King nor him. of York and Lancaster, and commit them to prison; and also the lords of the King’s Council they de¬ termined should he drawn and hanged. Such was the purpose which they meant to have accomplished in the August following. But the Earl Marshal, Arundel his son-in-law, discovered all to the King.” Holinshed, 1. 448. * “ He was arrayned,” says the old picturesque chronicle, “in a red gown and scarlet hood; and forthwith the Duke of Lancaster, John-of-Gaunt, said to the Lord Neville, Take from him his girdle and hood, and so it was done; and herewith the appeal being to the said Earl declared, with a va- lyaunt and bolde minde he denies that he was a traytor, and required benefit of y pardon, pro¬ testing that he would not go from the benefit of the King and his grace. The Duke of Lancaster then said, Why didst thou purchase the pardon ? The Earl answered, To the tongues of mine enemies, whereof thou art one. The Duke of Lancaster said, Thou traytor, this pardon is revoked. The Earl answered, Truely thou lyest, I never was a traytor." 94 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [Abbey westering moon, and, sauntering along in a silent contemplative mood, enjoyed a treat of which the noon-day visitor can form no adequate conception. It afforded what may he truly called a u night at St. Alban’s,” and seemed to address us in the words of the poet— “ Ye, whose high spirit dares to dwell Beyond the reach of earthly spell, And tread upon the dizzy verge Of unknown worlds, or downward urge, Thro’ ages dim, your steadfast sight, And trace their shapes of shadow’d light; Oh ! come with meek, submitted thought, With lifted eye by rapture taught, And o’er your head the gloom shall rise Of monkish chambers, still and wide, As once they stood: and to your eyes Group after group shall slowly glide, And here again their duties ply— As they were wont, long ages by.” The entrance to Lady-chapel from the north, of which a view has been already given at page 80, is particularly characteristic and picturesque. The massive square tower, showing at intervals its Koman materials and ancient masonry, throws a solemn and stately grandeur over the scene. It seems, while we look upon its scars, as if covered with hieroglyphics which embody the sacred and political history of a thousand years, during which it has been a cherished landmark to the pilgrim, a home to the weary, and an object of sanguinary contention between rival armies. “ Here to its hospitable gate, In want or woe, the pilgrim came; For at its portal Pity sate, To dry the tears of sin and shame. And here have armies on their march, And monarchs with their chiefs of fame, Paused, as beneath that lofty arch Their lips invoked St. Alban’s name.” The great western entrance has a very imposing aspect, and conveys to the spectator’s mind those ideas of ecclesiastical magnificence which can only be inspired by the noblest constructions of art—such as are here presented to his contemplation. It consists of a projecting porch, elaborately orna¬ mented, niched and pillared, and subdivided into numerous compartments, upon which the artist’s chisel has been most skilfully employed. “ Beside this porch, on either hand, Giant buttresses darkly stand, And still their silent vanguard hold For bleeding knights, laid here of old; And Mercian Oifa and his queen, The portal’s guard and grace, are seen. St. Albans.] THE BATTLE OP ST. ALBANS. 99 royal apartments, and the next day to London. The effeminacy of the king’s men, and to which is ascribed the loss of the battle, is thus described by our author, who saw both parties, and writes of them thus:— Quicquid ad Eoos tractusqae regni tepores Vergitur, emollit animos dementia Coeli: et Omnis in arctois sangnis qnicnnque pruinis Nascitur, indomitus bellis, et mortis amator. The duke’s men fell to plundering the town, but, by the commands of the duke, they abstained from doing any injury to the Abbey; but the Abbot and this, together with the protecting hand of the martyr, as my author asserts, preserved the Abbey and church from any injury by spoil and depredation.' The slain lay thick in the upper street, and at the division of the ways about the market; and among them were seen the dead bodies of Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset; of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland ; and of Thomas Clifford, Lord Clifford. But because they were persons well known to be hateful to the Duke of York when alive, none ventured to prepare for their funerals, or showed any decent regard to their dead bodies. Whereupon Abbot John addressed the duke, and begged him to spare the vanquished, and 112 CASTLES AND ABBEYS OF ENGLAND. [The Palace Hall of Eltham,” forms one of those incidents in life to which we look back with as much pleasure as the pilgrim was wont to do after he had paid his devotions at the “shrine of our Lady of Walsingham.” Every feature in this primitive abode of kings, this favourite resort of our native princes, arrests attention, and carries us back into the days of chivalry and romance. While sauntering through its deserted, and, as we may truly say, its dese¬ crated court, imagination delights to expatiate among those recorded scenes of court festivity, military fetes, and national solemnities, of which it has so often been the scene. The very echoes which, if at all disturbed, now only reply to the thresher’s song or the lowing of cattle, were once roused into loud and long-continued reverberations by the plaudits of knights within, and popular acclamations from without. In the twilight, the dim figures of its long line of possessors seem to flit before our eyes; while the mind is busily occupied in filling up the picture, from the days of Edward the Con¬ fessor down to those of James the First: “ Again, again, along the wizard’s glass, In waving plumes they reappear and pass.” It is gratifying to think that, whilst the plough may be said to have passed over many of our classic and historical sites, the Hall of Eltham is still spared. The ground on which it stands is sacred in the eyes of every patriot: it is an interesting field of study for the artist and antiquary; and in beauty of situation challenges the admiration of the most ordinary observer. Its position on a gently elevated surface, commanding a fine view in nearly every direc¬ tion, surrounded by an extensive chase, and in the immediate vicinity of the capital, made Eltham highly eligible as an occasional residence for the sovereign. But the surrounding country has undergone so many alterations, Eltham itself is so shrunk, dilapidated, and “ curtailed of its fair proportions,” that it is impossible to form a just estimate of what it must have been during the feudal period; adorned, as it undoubtedly was, with all the embellish¬ ments of art, inhabited by kings, with u kings for their guests,” and frequented by the dlite of English beauty and chivalry. Enough remains, however, to fill a long summer day with agreeable amusement and profitable entertainment; and to those who take pleasure in contemplating such monuments of the regal sway in England, the old palace of Eltham has attractions peculiarly its own. Nearly all the writers who have given their attention to the topography of Eltham and its vicinity, complain of the great want of authentic records, for the satisfactory elucidation of its early history. This is a subject of much regret; obscurity is intimately connected with the origin of the place; the documents which we possess consist chiefly of those casual notices embodied OS' Eltuam.] ELTHAM—A ROYAL PALACE. 117 the fate of war had made his prisoner, but whose captivity was soothed by every demonstration of respect and hospitality on the part of his royal brother and his consort. “The court of this sovereign,” says Warner, “was the very theatre of sumptuous carousal and romantic elegance. The martial amuse¬ ments of tilts and tournaments, which were always accompanied by splendid feasts, were so much encouraged, that we have instances of their being solemnly celebrated by royal command, in different cities, no less than seven times in the course of one year.” “ This gentle king of England,” says Froissart, “ the better to feste these strange lordes and all their company, held a great court on Trinity Monday in the Friers, whereat he and the queene his mother were lodged, keeping their house eche of them apart. At this feaste, the king had well five hundred knights, and fifteen were new made. And the queene had well in her courte sixty ladies and damozelles. There might be seen great nobles, plenty of all manner of straunge vitaile. There were ladies and damozelles freshely apparelled, ready to have daunced if they might have leave.” The above, though applied by Froissart to the reception of John of Hainault, was a general feature in the court life of this period; and it is no wonder that King John of France, whom Prince Edward had pro¬ nounced “ the bravest of knights,” found the weight of captivity much lightened in the congenial atmosphere of Eltham palace. The evening of Edward’s reign, however, exhibited a very different picture. Feast and tournament were gone, or rather the pleasures which they had once furnished to that chivalrous monarch during a long protracted reign, had now lost their zest. He spent the last months of his life between Eltham palace and his manor at Shene. “Decay,” says the historian, “had fallen heavy on body and spirit; he was incapable of doing much, and he did nothing. The ministers and courtiers crowded round the Duke of Lancaster, Prince Richard, and his mother. The old man was left to his mistress; and even she, it is said, after drawing his valuable ring from his finger, abandoned him in his dying moments.” The splendour of Eltham, however, was speedily revived in the person of his grandson, Richard the Second, whose reign, dazzling at its commencement, inglorious in its course, and disastrous at its close, the poet Gray has thus strikingly depicted:— “ Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o’er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind’s sway, That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey. of Tewkesbury.] FOUNDER—PATRONS—BRICTRIC. 171 it the distinction of a royal mausoleum in St. Faith’s Chapel j to which his own remains were afterwards consigned, with all the monks attending in solemn procession, and chanting his requiem. Towards the middle of the tenth century, Haylward Snew, descended from King Edward the Elder, founded a monastery on his own manor at Cran- burne,* in Dorsetshire, and to this he subjected the priory of Tewkesbury, of which he was patron. Historians give him the credit of having possessed, in an eminent degree, the virtues of personal valour and earnest piety; and of the latter, no better proofs could be adduced than the fact of his having bestowed much of his substance upon the church. Algar, his eldest son and successor, did not long enjoy his inheritance; and to him succeeded his younger brother, Brictric, of whom the annexed adventure is recorded, f * Speaking of the cell of Cranbume, belonging to Tewkesbury:—Alredus Meauw, Comes Glocestrice, primus fundator.—Fabulabatur huic antiquitus mo- nasterium Theokesbyri: sed Robertus, filius Haimo- nis, comes Glocestriae, dedit prsedia hujus domus monasterio de Theokesbirie.—See Dugd. p. 163.— Chronic, of Tewkesburye. f Being sent as ambassador to the Court of Bald¬ win, Count of Flanders, Brictric made so tender an impression upon the heart of the Count’s daughter, Matilda, that, unable to disguise her partiality for the English noble, she resolved to unite her destiny with his. No object could delight her eye, no sound could charm her ear, but the figure and voice of Brictric! But here the course of true love did not run smooth —it ran all on one side; for, occupied perhaps with politics, or haply with some early predilections nearer the Severn, Brictric was obviously insensible to the tender appeal, and so ungallant, moreover, as to treat the affections lavished upon him by the fair Maud with a callousness of look and expression which proved almost a death-blow to so doting a heart. The ambassador, however, little consulted his own interest when he slighted these tender overtures on the part of the maid of Flanders. But he lived in times when plenipotentiaries were not so wise as they are in the present day ; for on the very first protocol being sub¬ mitted to his consideration, he broke off the negotia¬ tions and returned to England. For a time the daughter of Baldwin was inconsolable. Like Queen Dido of old, she exclaimed in great bitterness—for Latin was no mystery to the ladies of her time— -“ Siquis mihi parvulus aula Luderet iEneas, qui te tantem ore referret, Non equidem capta ae deserta viderer, Crudelis ”—— But while the lady was thus giving vent to her love in pathetic hexameters, Brictric had arrived at Tewkesbury, little thinking of that storm which was soon to burst on the shores of Britain, and in which he was to be stripped of his ancient patrimony. of Tewkesbury.] EARLDOM OF GLOUCESTER—FITZ-HAMON. 175 to rest more than a hundred and thirty-four years; they were then removed by Robert, the third abbot of that name, and interred in a plain tomb between two pillars on the right side of the Chancel, which, with the Chapter-house, will be noticed in a subsequent page. ( One hundred and fifty-six years later, Thomas Parker, the eighteenth (.abbot, caused the original tomb to be enclosed within a richly-carved chapel, “ satis mirifice tabulatam,” and appointed a mass to be celebrated every day for the souls of Robert Fitz-Hamon, and Sybil his wife. By this lady he left issue four daughters, co-heiresses to vast possessions which, during his active services in places of the highest trust under government, had greatly accumulated during the last two reigns. But King Henry, who was averse to seeing the Honor of Gloucester thus subdivided, adopted such arbitrary measures as effectually prevented the execution of the testator’s will, and disposed of his daughters in the following manner:—Hawise he made Abbess of Chichester; Cecilia he appointed Abbess of Shaftesbury; Amicia he gave in marriage to his firm adherent, the Earl of Brittany; and to Robert, his natural son, by the daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr, Prince of Glamorgan, he united Mabilia, the eldest. Thus the four daughters of Fitz-Hamon were fairly settled by “ royal authority,” and the estates concentrated upon his son, Earl Robert, and his descendants. But Mabilia, it appears, expressed some reluctance when this alliance was first proposed by the king, alleging that, as his son Robert had then no baronial title nor high military standing in the country, such a union was neither agreeable to her taste nor suitable to the rank and possessions bequeathed to her by so many illustrious ancestors. These objections, as stated by the monk* of Gloucester, were too reasonable * Robert of Gloucester, in commemorating these objections on the part of the Lady Mabilia, and their removal and adjustment on that of King Henry, gives the following shrewd and amusing dialogue. The king having proposed to the heiress, as a state measure, that she should give her hand to his son Robert, the lady, who was fully sensible that the grand charm which made the King suitor for his son was her princely “ heritage,” answers him thus: Mabel. Sir, she saide, ich wote your herte upon me is More for myne heritage, than for myselfe, I wis; And suche heritage as ich have, itt were to mee grit shame To take a lorde but he hadde any surname. K. Henry. Damoseill, quod the Kingd, thou seest well in thys case, Sir Robert Fitz-Hayman thi faders namd was; As fayre a name he shall have, as you may see, Sir Robert be Fitz-Roy shall his name be. Yea, Damoseill, he sayd, thy lorde shall have a name For him and for his heires, fayre without blame: For Robert Earl op Gloucestre his name shall be, and ’tis Hee shall be Earl of Gloucestre, and his heires, I wis. This declaration on the part of the king having instantly removed every possible objection, the heiress no longer hesitates, but in great and amiable simplicity answers— Mabel. Inne this forme, quod shee, ich wole that all my thyng be hys. Robert, a monk of Gloucester, is supposed to have finished his rhyming Chronicle about 1280.—Camp¬ bell’s Essay on English Poetry, note, p. 37. This extract from the Chronicle is slightly modernized; but in Hearne’s edit. vol. ii. 4-31, the reader will find it in its original purity. of Tewkesbury. DESCENT—BEAUCHAMP. 181 chancel; where his widow, Dame le Despenser, to perpetuate his memory, built the Chapel of the Holy Trinity, hereafter mentioned. This lady survived her husband thirty-three years, and retained, as 11 her dowry, the lordships of Hanley, Fairford, and Tewkesbury,” and died at the commence¬ ment of the fifteenth century, when they fell to her grandson Richard, whose father, Thomas—the second son of the last-named Edward—had fallen a victim to tl)f nxt at the accession of Henry the Fourth. She was buried near her husband; and during her life, among various other benefactions, she bequeathed to the Abbey a suit of scarlet vestments, embroidered with lions of gold— namely, one coat with three royal robes and white vest¬ ments, and fifteen mantles or copes. * Thomas, her nephew above mentioned, married Constance, daughter of Edmund Langley, Duke of York, and was created Earl of Gloucester by Richard the Second, in right of his descent from Elianora, wife of Hugh Despenser the younger. But having taken an active part in the conspiracy formed to dethrone Henry the Fourth, he was apprehended at Bristol and executed, jand a sentence of attainder passed upon his titles and estates. He (was afterwards buried in the middle of the