House of Commons can arraign a Prince of the Blood, and succeed in having a minute, searching, impartial inquiry made into his conduct. And, though the Duke acted like a weak man, very unworthy of his high post, yet there is nothing new or extraordinary in a young prince being under the dominion of a bold bad woman; and, though the Duke by doing everything she asked him did many things incompatible with honour, yet I think he is an honourable man, a frank fearless fellow; and I do not like to hear the blackguards in the street making ribaldry about him; fair enough though it is, and the best punishment for vice in high places. The Duke of York is evidently a man who would give way in everything to any woman he was attached to, but otherwise a man of sense and courage. Whether the object of Mrs. Clarke is simply to get money, or to make herself of consequence, seems doubtful: she is of great notoriety now, but she cannot expect that she will be remembered for many months; she cannot have made much by the affair, and she and Colonel Wardle will probably fall back into the obscurity from which they have so strangely emerged. Öne of the oddest things in her evidence was about an Irish parson, a Dr. O'Meara, recommended to her by an Irish archbishop, which is laughed at when she states it, but a note of the Duke of York's confirms her statement; I heard him preach at Weymouth last October before the King and royal family, very little thinking to what sort of person he owed this distinction. He deserved a better patron, for he is an eloquent man. His sermon was against the French revolutionary universal-benevolence nonsense, and insisting on family union and affection with much vehemence and eloquence, his Majesty standing up all the time, as he is apt to do in church if anything remarkable is preached-the queen and princesses much moved, all in tears. There was a fine passage at the end of Whitbread's concluding speech, on the misfortunes of royalty: I am far from wishing to visit the errors of princes with severity; they can hardly be judged of by the rules which apply to the rest of society; from the cradle to the grave they are subjugated by flattery; they are almost cut off from the possibility of hearing the truth, their temptation greater, their means of resistance less.' He went on, oddly I think for a man of sense, and a Whig, to regret that marriages were not allowed with a subject; but it was on the truly English principle, that English is better than anything else in every situation. But we have hangers-on enough appended to royalty; to have half the nobility of England claiming kin with their King would be quite intolerable. He ended well with, The examinations we have gone through have been to the Duke of York one long and painful lecture, and if no impression has been made upon his mind it is incapable of impression.'" "1809, 19th September. Yesterday, at the opening of Covent Garden; fine as new decorations of every kind could make it; a very ill-contrived theatre I cannot but think it: every thing is on too large a scale; a deal of gold, and green, and fine painting everywhere; so much for the eye, one doubts if there is anything for the ear. The drop-scene is a temple, with Shakspeare between Tragedy and Comedy, not appearing much pleased 'with either dear charmer;' indeed, they are both nearly as insipid ladies as their statues outside the theatre, where Tragedy looks so raide and dull, she is more like Fortitude or Temperance; and poor Comedy, half asleep, looks very owlish and contemplative. The house was crammed instantly; and before the orchestra began there was a profound silence, that I really felt as very grand,-that vast crowd absolutely mute with wonder and admiration at the size and magnificence of what they looked upon. The first note of God save the King, however, gives the signal as it were; and such an uproar! It never ceased till one in the morning! Kemble recited what I understood was supposed to be an opening address; but nothing is heard except a mingled roar of clapping and hissing. The play was Macbeth, a splendid pantomime. Not one single word could be heard in the chaos of hisses, groans, and cries of 'Off, off; old prices; no rise, no imposition; no rise, old prices; the faint beginning applause completely drowned. Mrs. Siddons has really nerve enough to kill Duncan in earnest she went so resolutely through the scene, she and her brother, in dumb show, doing Macbeth and Lady Macbeth with such truth, and dignity, and spirit, that they absolutely chained my attention; and I, in imagination, hear every word almost of the scene, their dumb show is so perfect! Their action, gestures, and looks express every well known speech so perfectly, that I absolutely followed the whole. I doubt its being a good hearing theatre: some future occasion may show, but on the present nothing but the audience was audible. I can, however, fancy from this specimen of dumb show how much of the pleasure of the audience or spectators in an ancient theatre was derived from being so perfectly acquainted with what the actors were saying, that memory supplied the place of hearing, each gesture suggesting and memory filling up the indistinctly-caught words of the performer. The play ends at eleven, and most quiet people try to get out. I think it quieter to remain, and was curious, too, to see it out. When the curtain falls, Read and Nares from Bow-street appear on the stage, and read the Riot Act; but, as I am not as familiar with it as with Macbeth, I cannot make out a word of it in the storm of cries, No police, no magistrate; off, off.' At last they begin to leave the house from sheer fatigue, I believe; and I am home nearly deafened at two o'clock. "Again at the theatre. Such a scene as the pit presents! every hat stuck with a paper with a great O. P. on it. And kept up as they have done for more than fifty nights such an uproar that it seemed enough to split the very walls. Mr. Brandon, the box-keeper, for letting in constables, became the chief object of their fury, and a certain Mr. Clifford, whom they call the honest counsellor,' their chief hero." "15th December. Last night at the theatre. Fancy myself among the Mohawks; yelling, and dancing, and all the savagery that belongs to North American wilds-hardly conceivable in a civilized country. The pit insist on Mr. Brandon's discharge: he comes on the stage; sticks and a handbill are flung at him: exit Brandon. Enter Harris: horrible tumult, not a word to be heard. The pit, who have regularly danced an O. P. dance every night, now shout for a B. D. (Brandon discharged) dance: I leave the house. "17th. Kemble has capitulated: Brandon discharged: old prices restored; and We are satisfied' on a great placard shown in the pit." "20th Dec. Saw the Persian ambassador go to the audience. He is very handsome, grave, and dignified. The royal carriage with six horses, and all the attendants in splendid liveries, strike him very much. Persia is so connected with classic associations, one is apt to think more of it than it deserves. Our danger from its attacks on India is so remote it cannot affect us much; but it gratifies national pride to see an ambassador from the barbarian soliciting our alliance. How much of similarity there is between the Persia of this day and that of Themistocles is a curious question. How far the climate and situation make the same manners? and how far they are modified by Mahommedanism? Our notions of orientals are, and have been since the Crusades, so essentially as of the followers of Mahound, we can hardly fancy them as anything else. But the fatalist, predestinarian, character of their modern religion must give a totally different bent of mind. How far this was inherent in the disposition of the race is what we cannot now discover; but I should incline to think that so great a genius as Mahommed had rather adapted his creed to the minds he was to rule than attempted to turn the mind by new systems. The pertinacity though with which the fire-worshippers stuck to their worship is much against me. The turning to the east, however, is in accordance with the old adoration of the sun, the oldest form of religion after that of the Bible that is known, the most natural, and still alluded to in the eastwindowed altars of the Christian Church, borrowed from a climate where the sun-rise is so sudden, so sublime, so easily deified and adored." (To be continued.) CAISTER CASTLE, NORFOLK. IT will be recollected that this picturesque remain was one of the places visited by the Archæological Institute during their visit to Norfolk last year; and on that occasion the accompanying view of a portion of the ruins was taken by our friend Mr. Buckler. A very pleasing volume* on the subject, published by Mr. Dawson Turner in the year 1842, will at once supply us with the most interesting features of its history. Caister Castle is situated about three miles from Yarmouth, on the extreme eastern edge of the sandy shore of Norfolk, away from the present parish church and village, for there was formerly a second church, which, like the castle, has been converted into farming premises. It stands upon a slight eminence above the level of the surrounding plain, at the distance of about a mile and a half from the sea. Four hundred years have now passed over Caister Castle; and for half that period it has been gradually falling to decay. Yet not only when it was the favourite seat of its founder, the opulent and distinguished Sir John Fas tolfe, but at a subsequent period, whilst occupied by the old and honourable family of Paston, it must have presented an appearance of much magnificence. An inventory, taken upon Sir John Fastolfe's death in 1459, of the furniture it then contained, and of the rich plate stored within its chambers, prove it to have been a mansion of no ordinary grandeur. Pleasuregrounds, gardens, terraces, and lawns, it may naturally be concluded, cannot have been wanting to such a dwelling. But we look in vain for any vestiges of these: detached portions of a double moat, and of walls pierced with loopholes and flanked with towers, and foundations that inclosed more than six acres of ground, are the only indications left of the extent of the whole building; whilst of its splendour, or of the dignified ease of its possessor, no further evidences now meet the eye than may be derived from the delicacy and ornaments of the architecture, the neglected barge-house, and the fragment of an avenue of tall elms which still crests the mound. The Magna Aula, the Aula Hiemalis, the Magna Camera, * Sketch of the History of Caister Castle. 1842. 8vo. Illustrated with sever etchings. ↑ Published in the 21st volume of the Archæologia. and all the long list of chambers appropriated to dependants on the great man's hospitality, are so utterly gone, that every vestige of them has disappeared. Nor is the consecrated inclosure of the chapel, once brilliant with its "candellstikkes all gilt, and its pix and crosse, and its ewers and chalices, likewise all gilt," as well as the "images of Saynt Michell and oure Lady," at all more clearly to be discerned. Even the Coquina, the Larderia, and the Buttellarium, whose adaptation to all sorts and conditions of men might have secured them a longer existence, have equally vanished; and so, moreover, has the less destructible Cellar, though large vaults existed when the present venerable tenant, Mr. Everett, first occupied the place about forty years ago. Yet were these self-same walls, that now remain only in all the bareness of desolation, once draperied with "clothis of arras," and "tapestre worke," and "hangyngs of sylver and of blewe;" and the apartments, whose "very ruins are ruined," were carefully secured from eye and foot of intruder; for in them were stored Sir John's massy plate, his sumptuous and costly wardrobe, and all "my ladyes russet velvets and deepgreen damasks," and even her knight's cherished token of chief dignity, his "blewe hood of the Garter.' The architectural character of the castle is influenced by the time of its erection. It was built at that transition period when the heavy and strongly fortified dwellings of our nobles, constructed mainly as places of security, began to be superseded by habitations of a less military character; when comfort and amenity had gained in a degree upon sternness and force; and when, in consequence, frowning walls of massy strength, pierced with few The ruin is principally distinguished by the elegance of its proportions and the accuracy of its masonry. Its most prominent feature is a lofty cylindrical tower (seen in the view), originally crowned with battlements, but now presenting an irregular and jagged outline against the sky. Mr. Dawson Turner has pointed out its strong resemblance to a tower at Falaise in Normandy, attached to the ancient fortress, the birth-place of the Conqueror, and the work of the celebrated Talbot, long Fastolfe's companion in arms in the wars of that province. Here at Caister the brick, which, with an intermixture of stone in the more ornamental portions, forms the material of the building, is close in its texture and very pleasing in colour. The whole has acquired sobriety of hue by age; and though time and weather, and the yet more active injuries of man's destructive hand, have shattered the compact masonry, and produced long and gaping fissures, it still stands erect and graceful in decay, high raised above the meaner buildings which have grown out of its ruins, and the bareheaded trees not improbably its contemporaries. The tower rises at the north-west corner of the court. Its height is ninety feet, and its diameter about twenty-five: that it once was divided into five stories is evident, from the projections of intersecting beams, and from the chimney-pieces within, as well as from the tiers of stone-coigned windows without. An hexagonal staircase turret flanks it on its south-west side, *In the dining-room at Blickling, says Mr. Dawson Turner, is still preserved the carving of Sir John Fastolfe's arms, which formerly stood above a window in Caister Castle, and which is represented in the head-piece to the memoir of Sir John Fastolfe, in Anstis's Register of the Order of the Garter. Mr. D. Turner adds, "Above the central point of the arch on a label are seen the words me ffautt ffare, and upon another above his arms p pens. These words seem to have given rise to the tradition that the castle was built, as a ransom, by a French nobleman whom Fastolfe captured." We do not perceive the meaning supposed to lurk in the words as thus given: but it appears from Anstis's plate that y pens is part of the usual motto of the Garter, and Fastolfe's own motto (which is there engraved me ffaitt ffarre, the second word being we presume an error for ffaut,) seems complete in itself, and we should understand it as meaning to recommend activity-" I must be up and doing." and rises above it about eight feet; its stairs were removed about the year 1780 to a mansion built by the Rev. Daniel Collyer at Wroxham, where they now form the stone parapet in front of the roof. The jackdaws, who seem to have made the castle their stronghold, are now the sole inhabitants of this portion: they perch upon the once dreaded flagstaff; they fly in and out of the windows, as if they were rightful owners of the apartments, and they converse with each other in tones so loud, as prove they have no dread of molestation. The west front remains entire. It is in great part surmounted by a line of machicolations, and appears, from the size and arrangement of the windows, to have been the exterior of the great hall. These windows, a single row, are placed at a considerable height above the ground. Here also is the chief gateway; and, as might naturally be expected, more ornament has been lavished upon the decoration of this important feature than upon any other portion of the building. Grotesque heads, on long necks, project their grinning countenances over the summit of the gate ;* and with them are intermixed stone brackets, which partake of a Romanesque character, and are more debased in their style than might have been expected from the architecture of the reign of Henry the Fifth. The same observation may be applied to the long line of similar brackets that support the cornice of the north wall (as seen in our view), and alone break the blankness of that side of the quadrangle. Such are the chief remains of the exterior of Caister castle. Of its interior little indeed is now to be traced; but the inventory before noticed supplies us with some idea of its original splendour, and, still under the guidance of Mr. Dawson Turner, we may proceed to observe some of its most remarkable features. On examining this document the reader cannot fail to be struck with the extraordinary quantity of coin and bullion, and silver and gold in various forms, contained in the castle, as indicating a state of society altogether unlike the present a state in which the absence of commerce and manufactures and a national debt drove the possessors of the precious metals to hoard them in their chests, or display them on their buffet, for want of easy and profitable investment. Sir John Fastolfe, at his banquets, was able to make his table glitter with two hundred and fifty-one "chargeours, disshes, and platters" of silver and silver-gilt, while one hundred and eleven drinking vessels, "flagons, gallon-cuppes, quartelets, bowles, and gobletes," might be ranged by their side; and spice-plates, ewers, and silver and gilt candlesticks, were producible in like abundance. Nor, in addition to such articles as these, which claimed to be of necessary use, did his board lack splendid salt-cellars, reared up into the form of castles, or spreading out into foliage; or others, which, like the "founteyne all gilt, with j. columbine floure at the bottom," could have served no other purpose than the gratification of the eye, or of the pride of rank. Skill of workmanship and variety of ornament must have greatly enhanced the costliness of the material; and, in the description of the foliage, the violets and poppy-leaves, and the roses, &c. which were enamelled or embossed upon the vessels, the mind reverts to the illustration of missals, and to the graceful capitals and mouldings of ecclesiastical architecture. As might be expected, "my masteris helmet, arms, and target," present themselves in frequent repetition: the helmet formed the "knop" by which to raise the "kever or coveracle of a stondynge cuppe;" the target was carved "in the middes of a bolle ;" and the arms were enamelled in the large spice-plates, whose verges were gilt, and "wrethen with a tre, wrought about with leaves." In the enumeration of the Knight's wardrobe, the very form and fashion of his gowns, doublets, jackets, and hoods, as well as their material colour, trimming, and lining, are carefully recorded. Sir John must surely have dazzled the eyes and bewildered the brain of the fair dames of the city, when, in gown of cloth of gold, he glanced along the streets, or when, The same feature occurs in the entrance gateway to the Priory of Walsingham, of which a view was given in our Magazine for September 1847. |