THE CASTLE OF ARUNDEL,

The Castle of Arundel enjoys a twofold celebrity, in its great antiquity and in its peculiar privilege of conferring the title of Earl on its possessor. The former reverts to a period much anterior to the conquest; the latter was hereditary in the eleventh century, and confirmed by Act of Parliament in the sixth year of the reign of Henry the Sixth. But its chief and enduring interest is derived from the long list of warriors and statesmen whose names are identified with the place; and whose deeds, during the lapse of eight centuries, have shed lustre on the national history.

The earliest recorded notice of Arundel occurs in the will of the Great Alfred[2], in which he bequeaths it, along with other lordships, to his brother’s son Athelm. It is described in that document[3] as a manor, but without any specific distinction in its privileges from those of Aldingbourn, Compton, and Beeding, with which it is associated; and to Godwin and his son Harold, who were successively earls of Sussex[4], it passed, in all probability, in the same form. It was not till the overthrow of the Saxon dynasty[5], however, that Arundel assumes a prominent station in history as a native fortress of strength and importance[6]. Among the train of warlike barons who attended the Norman in his successful expedition to our coast, was 1066-1070 Roger de Monte Gomerico, or Montgomery, nearly related to the Conqueror by blood, and possessing extensive territories in Normandy[7]. At the battle of Hastings, which placed the British crown on the head of William, Montgomery led the

centre division of the army[8], and contributed to the victory. In return for this important service, and to bind him more firmly to his interests, the Conqueror four years afterwards bestowed upon him the two comtés, or earldoms, of Shrewsbury and Arundel[9]. Of the six rapes[10] into which Sussex is divided, two, comprising Chichester and Arundel, and calculated to contain eighty-four knights’ fees[11] and a half, were set apart to form the honour[12] of Arundel. Of this and his other princely territories, Montgomery retained possession during a period of twenty years; and the ample revenues which they produced enabled him to support that dignity, splendour, and host of retainers which bespoke the rank of one of the great vassals of the crown. He was a man, according to Orderic[13], of exemplary prudence and moderation; a great lover of equity, and of discreet and modest persons. When he perceived his end approaching, the attachment which he had always felt for a religious life induced him to solicit admission to the Abbey of Shrewsbury, which he had founded; and there, three days after he had assumed the monastic habit[14], he expired in the month of July, 1094. Of his family, consisting of five sons and four daughters, an account will be found in the Appendix.

On the death of Roger Montgomery, his English possessions descended by will to Hugh, his younger son, whose life, like that of his brother Robert, was spent in wars of retaliation and aggression; seconding the enterprises of the turbulent nobles of his period; alternately opposing, and punished by, the king. 1098-1102 When an attempt was made upon the island of Anglesea by the king of Norway[15], Hugh made all haste to give him a warm reception; but although the enemy was put to flight, one of his arrows taking effect upon the Earl of Arundel[16], entered at the eye, and passing through the brain, struck him dead from his horse. He was buried in Shrewsbury. From Hugh the earldom passed to his elder brother Robert, Comte of Belesme, in La Perche, on payment of a fine to the king of three thousand pounds—an immense sum at that period. But on the revolt of the latter, when his possessions were forfeited to King Henry the First, the honour and castle of Arundel were resumed as property of the Crown.

By Henry they were settled in dower upon his second queen, Adeliza, daughter of Godfrey, Duke of Lorraine, who on the death of the king conveyed them by a second marriage to William de

Albini, lord of Buckenham in Norfolk, of whose descendants we shall make more deliberate mention hereafter. When the Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry the First, and mother of Henry the Second, landed in England in 1139, to assert her claims against the usurper Stephen, she was received, as will hereafter be noticed, at Arundel, and lodged with her retinue in the castle—an event which served greatly to advance and establish the fortunes of Albini. For the news of her landing having alarmed the Usurper, he drew his forces immediately under the walls, and laid close siege to the castle. Albini, however, not only preserved his royal guest from violence, but, by good generalship or caution, secured for her a safe-conduct to Bristol, from which she took shipping and returned to the Continent.

On the accession of her son, Henry the Second, this and other faithful services were not forgotten by the sovereign, who, to testify the sense in which he viewed Albini’s devotion to his cause, confirmed to him and to his heirs for ever the honour and castle of Arundel[17]. He died in 1176, and William, his son and successor, in 1196.

William de Albini, the third in regular descent who enjoyed the earldom of Arundel, is well known in history as one of the barons who signed the Magna Charta, and otherwise evinced himself one of the most talented and enterprising men of his day. Having died on his way home through Italy in 1221, he was succeeded by his son William, the fourth earl, who dying early, without issue, was succeeded by his brother, Hugh de Albini, the last of the race. Hugh died in 1243, leaving four sisters, or their representatives, as his co-heirs, amongst whom, under a special commission from the Crown, his manorial estates were divided. Of these four sisters, the second, Isabel, had married Fitzalan of Oswaldestre; and to her son John Fitzalan, as nephew to the late Earl Hugh, the castle of Arundel and all its appurtenances descended by inheritance. This was the beginning of a new line of Earls—the Fitzalans of Arundel, six of whom in succession held that distinguished rank in the state.

The Fitzalan Family, like those of Montgomery and Albini, was of Norman origin, and descended from Alan, the son of Fleald, who attended the Conqueror at the battle of Hastings, and received, amongst other spoils of the vanquished, the castle of Madoc-ap-Meredith in Wales, with the lordship of Oswaldestre in Salop. His wife was a daughter of Warren-the-Bald, sheriff of Shropshire, and consequently grand-niece of Roger Montgomery. By her he had two sons; William, who, adopting his patronymic, was called Fitz-Alan; and Walter, who, pursuing his fortunes in Scotland and being appointed by King David grand-steward of the kingdom, became the progenitor of the royal family of Stuart[18]. William Fitzalan, the elder brother, married Ellen, daughter of William Peverel, and niece of Robert, Earl of Gloucester, and with her obtained a large accession of property in Bretagne. He defended Shrewsbury against Stephen, fought with the Empress Matilda at Winchester, and at the accession of Henry the Second was appointed sheriff of Shropshire. At his death he left an only son, William, whose marriage with Isabel, daughter and heiress of Ingelram-de-Say, added the extensive lordship of Clun to the patrimonial possessions of the family; when the titles of Clun and Oswaldestre were first united, and continue in the Howard family to the present day. After the death of William, the first lord of these honours, his son and successor survived him only five years, and leaving no issue, the property devolved on his brother, John Fitzalan, who, in concert with the Barons, opposed the tyrannical measures of the king, and was appointed by Henry the Third one of the Lords Marchers in Wales. At his death he was succeeded by his only son, the subject of this notice, and first of his family who was Earl of Arundel.

On two occasions, however, the family honours and property were alienated by attainder, and given in the first instance to Edmund, Earl of Kent; and in the latter to Holland, Duke of Exeter. This took place in the persons of Edmund the third, and Richard the fifth earl; but in both cases their sons were restored to that station and inheritance which their own political offences had forfeited.

1415 Thomas, the sixth earl of the Fitzalan line, dying without issue, left three sisters as his co-heirs. But his grandfather, Richard, in order to prevent the further division of the honour, had entailed it first upon his Countess for the term of her natural life; and then on the heirs male of his own body, by the said Countess Alianor, with remainders over. In pursuance of this arrangement, therefore, the castle and estates of Arundel passed, on the demise of Earl Thomas, to his second-cousin, John Fitzalan, Lord Maltravers, from whom it again descended through a succession of seven earls of the united families of Fitzalan and Maltravers—many of them highly distinguished, and terminated in Henry, the twenty-second Earl of Arundel.

Henry’s only son, a youth of splendid accomplishments, had died at Brussels; and of his two daughters, Joan, the elder, was married to Lord Lumley; and Mary to Thomas Howard, fourth Duke of Norfolk. But the latter, having died after giving birth to a son, Philip Howard; and the other, Lady Lumley, having been married twenty years without issue; a fine was levied in 1570, by which the earl, ten years previous to his death, entailed the castle and honour of Arundel, with a numerous list of parks, forests, lands, estates, &c., upon Lord Lumley and Joan, his wife, for the term of their separate lives, remainder to the lawful heirs of the said Joan, remainder to Philip, son of Mary, Duchess of Norfolk, and his heirs.[19]

1581 Philip, first of the Ducal House of Howard invested with the title of Earl of Arundel, continued in the enjoyment of his honours only during the short period of eight years, when, as will hereafter appear, he was attainted in 1589, and his estates forfeited to the crown. Fifteen years later, however, they were restored to his son Thomas, on the accession of King James, who was anxious to redress the wrongs of the father, by extending the hand of royal favour to the son. This event in the fortunes of the Howard family took place in 1604; and from that period down to the present time, the title has passed without interruption through a line of descendants—

With this brief and hasty sketch of the origin of the Castle of Arundel and its powerful lords, whose deeds and destinies shed around its history feelings of mingled sympathy and admiration; we turn aside to view the fortress, whose apartments have been the hereditary asylum and berçeau of patriotism, chivalry, piety, and British independence, during a period of eight centuries.

To the great antiquity of Arundel Castle we have already adverted. Bevis[20]—a hero of romance—is currently believed to have been its founder; but however easily this may be disputed, the fact of its having been a royal fortress, long before the Conquest, seems fully established. The earliest recorded evidence to this effect appears in the Domesday Survey, where it is stated that, in the time of Edward the Confessor, the castle of Arundel[21] rendered for a certain mill forty shillings, for one pasture twenty shillings; and that between the town, the port, and the customs of the shipping, it rendered twelve pounds, and was worth thirteen.

But as the name and epoch of its founder remain in total obscurity[22], conjecture, however plausible or ingenious, would here be fruitless; and leaving the fanciful antiquary and etymologist to indulge their several tastes in exploring the labyrinth of fable, we turn at once to the broad noon of history, to draw from authentic sources such facts as may appear in some respects more extraordinary than fiction.

The Castle of Arundel, in point of situation, presents every advantage which could be desired for the erection of a military fortress. At the southern extremity of the elevated platform on which it stands, a strong wall inclosed the inner court, containing upwards of five acres; on the north-east and south-east a precipitous dip of the hill, to at least ninety feet, rendered the castle inaccessible. On the remaining sides, a deep fosse, protected on the north by a double vallation, and cutting off all external communication in that direction, secured the garrison against any sudden incursion or surprise. Or, if assailed,—

In the centre of this spacious area, rose the donjon or Keep, circular in form, of enormous strength, crowning a lofty artificial mound, and commanding a wide and uninterrupted view of all the neighbouring approaches. The height of the mount, from the bottom of the fosse on the external side, was seventy feet; on the internal, sixty-nine; and with that of the walls and battlements, by which it was crowned, presented a commanding elevation on the east of ninety-six feet; and on the west, of one hundred and three. The walls, measuring from eight to ten feet in thickness, inclosed a nearly circular space, varying between fifty-nine and sixty-seven feet in diameter, which afforded accommodation for the garrison. The apartments, judging from the corbel stones still remaining, appear to have been arranged round the walls, converging towards the centre, from which they received their light, as from an open cupola. Externally there were neither loop-holes nor openings in the masonry, from which, as in other keeps, an army could be annoyed; so that it was only from the ramparts and battlements that the garrison could repel an assault.—See Dallaway’s Rape of Arundel and Horsted’s History.

Such in all probability was the ‘Castrum de Harundel’ when the Conqueror placed it in the hands of Roger Montgomery, and such as it had been when erected by the wise policy of King Alfred. At this time the Keep appears to have comprised the whole strength of the place, the barbican or outer rampart excepted; so that to give it the strength and space of a Norman castle, by contributing those improvements which the circumstances of the time demanded, and of which its natural position was highly susceptible, engaged the first care of its Norman possessor. The external walls, accordingly, were faced with a new casing of Caen stone; the whole structure was supported at intervals by broad flat buttresses; and on the south-east side of the Keep an improved

entrance was effected, where the Norman art is still visible. It is a wide semicircular archway cut through the solid wall, ornamented on the inner side with a plain torus moulding, and terminated on the outer by a smaller arch, richly carved with the chevron and other ornaments in common use during the latter part of the eleventh century.[23]

But of all the architectural improvements effected by Roger Montgomery in the wide area beneath the Keep, the most conspicuous in the present day is the great Gateway. It consists of a square tower standing over an arched way, which forms the entrance to the court, and communicates with the Keep by a raised passage carried across the moat, and terminated by a flight of steps. The upper part of this tower is supposed to be the work of the thirteenth century; but the lower portion, comprising the whole of the covered-way, retains its original stamp, and presents a striking specimen of Norman taste. The arch is circular, without a keystone, and quite destitute of ornament. The arch, as well as all that remains of the ancient front of the tower, is composed of square blocks of Pulborough stone, the angles of which still preserve their original sharpness. A portcullis was formerly placed at the outer extremity of the passage, which was probably still further strengthened by a drawbridge over the fosse immediately beneath it.[24]—See the engravings.

The Barbican, or Bebis’ Tower, as it is generally called, is another of those warlike adjuncts by which the Norman baron strengthened and improved his new residence. It occupies the north-west side of the ditch by which the Keep is surrounded, and, notwithstanding the ravages of siege and storm, presents many of the characteristic features of Norman architecture. It is an oblong tower, supported by a huge buttress at each of its angles, and originally was of considerable elevation; but during the Parliamentary siege, about to be noticed, the upper part was destroyed, and the temporary roof which now covers it was supplied at a later period. The whole is now invested with a luxuriant mantle of ivy, and presents, like the adjoining Keep, a green pyramidal mass of foliage, through which at intervals the grey stone and white mortar are discernible. It is haunted ground—

Under the east end of the Castle is an immense vault, described by a late historian of the Castle as sixty-six feet in length by nearly twenty-one feet in width, and upwards of fourteen feet high. The arches are circular, and formed of square blocks of chalk strengthened by four transverse ribs of massive stone. The walls, varying in thickness, present at different parts externally a compact mass of seven feet and upwards. This is the dismal receptacle in which the unhappy captive whom the fortune of war had placed at the mercy of his feudal lord, or the culprit who had violated the laws, were shut up in miserable durance. Few have ever traversed that dreary vault without an involuntary shudder, as imagination conjured up the scenes of human agony that must have transpired unheard, unpitied, under the veil of its sepulchral darkness—

1404 A curious instance of escape from this dungeon, in connexion with the law of sanctuary, is recorded by Mr. Tierney, on the authority of Bishop Rede’s Register:—A person named John Mot, having been committed on a charge of robbery, contrived to elude the vigilance of his keepers, passed the

enclosure of the castle, and had nearly succeeded in effecting his retreat, when his flight becoming known, the constable, assisted by a part of the inhabitants, followed in close pursuit. Finding that he was likely to be overtaken, the fugitive turned to the College of the Holy Trinity, and seizing the ring attached to the gate, claimed the rights of sanctuary. The constable, however, appears to have doubted the validity of this appeal to ecclesiastical protection, and the captive was forcibly disengaged, and hurried back to prison. But the circumstance got wind; rumours of the occurrence soon spread through the neighbourhood; the immunities of the church and the laws of sanctuary were said to have been violated; two of the parties who had aided the constable in securing the offender were summoned before the bishop, to answer the charge in person. Being questioned, and found guilty, they were ordered to make a pilgrimage on foot to the shrine of St. Richard, at Chichester, to present an offering there according to their ability; to be cudgelled (fustigati) five times through the church of Arundel, and five times to recite the Pater-noster, the Ave, and the Creed, upon their knees before the crucifix at the high-altar. Before, however, this sentence could be carried into execution, it was ascertained that, on discovery of the error which had been committed, the captive had been “restored to the church.” The cudgelling was therefore ordered to be remitted; and an offering of a burning taper by each of the offending parties at the high-mass on the following Sunday, was substituted in its place.[25]

Of the Baronial Chapel, believed to have been erected at the same time, and now converted into the modern dining-room of the castle, little is known, beyond the fact of its having existed in the latter part of the thirteenth century[26]. During the minority of Richard Fitzalan, a royal patent was issued, by which we learn that the king, in right of the wardship which he possessed, presented to “the chapel of St. George, within the castle of Arundel.”[27] From that early period, down to the close of the last century, when the late Duke entered upon his plans for restoring the castle to its original splendour, this hallowed apartment had served as the family oratory of the Montgomeries, the Albinis, the Fitzalans, the Howards. But the rich and beautiful Gothic temple which the Duke has substituted has, in some degree, compensated for the metamorphosis to which the primitive altar of the family has been subjected. The spot, however, where an altar had stood for centuries—at which so many generations had knelt in their joy or their sorrow; had paid the tribute of gratitude in prosperity, and implored succour in adversity; at which the marriage benediction, the baptismal rite, and the solemn service for the dead, had been so long and often celebrated—such a spot, however transformed by the hand of man, to whatever secular purposes converted, possesses that inherent sanctity which no disguise can obliterate—

The South-east front of Arundel Castle, which crowns an abrupt descent overlooking the river Arun, appears, in common with the dungeon already described, to have been the work of Montgomery, and contemporary with the adjoining tower. This opinion is confirmed by the close resemblance of its external masonry to that of the keep; as well as by the remains of some double round-headed windows, still visible in the walls, and which strictly correspond with double arches in Winchester Cathedral, built about the same epoch by Walkelin, cousin of William the Conqueror.

1094 Whatever appears to have been necessary for the strength and security of a Norman baron and his retainers, seems to have been fully and expeditiously effected by Earl Roger, whose experienced eye and warlike spirit soon detected the weak points of Arundel Castle, and supplied a remedy in those massive walls and outworks, which, with a well-disciplined garrison, must have rendered it impregnable in all the ordinary extremities of foreign or domestic warfare. The earl who next employed his taste and munificence in the work, was Richard Fitzalan, the third of his family, to whom we shall return in a subsequent notice. Having obtained a patent, authorising him to strengthen the defences of the town, by enclosing it on the exposed sides with walls, he appears to have availed himself of the same opportunity to rebuild the upper part of the old gatehouse, which had now stood upwards of a century, and to enlarge it on the west by the erection of an external gateway, a correct engraving of which is here introduced.

It consists of a long covered passage, “approached originally by a drawbridge over the fosse;” the entrance is under an “obtusely-pointed arch without machicolations, defended by a portcullis, and flanked by two square embattled towers, which are divided into four stories of apartments.” The lowest of these comprises the dungeons, entirely dark, and sunk to a depth of nearly fifteen feet below the bottom of the fosse. The upper rooms are lighted externally by narrow label-headed windows; and at the west corner a chamber, which extends along the whole of the covered-way, communicates with one of these apartments. This central chamber is still perfect, and accessible, by a spiral stone staircase, from the passage below. In the north wall of the archway is the ancient sally-port[28], which opens into the ditch. The foundation of the well-tower, and the construction of the present entrance to the Keep, are of similar origin with the gateway. Originally it was of considerable elevation; but having suffered by the united efforts of time and violence, the upper part was taken down by order of the late Duke, and the rubbish thrown into the well, which, according to our cicerone, was three hundred feet in depth[29]. In most of the ancient fortresses, situated on lofty and commanding situations, the garrison-well was always an object of paramount interest. The labour and ingenuity with which it was constructed, and the almost incredible depth to which it was often found necessary to perforate, before an adequate supply of that indispensable requisite, pure water, could be secured, are sufficient to excite our curiosity and admiration.

In the square tower immediately adjoining, on the east side, is “the present entrance to the Keep. Its narrow pointed arch is concealed beneath the dark projection of the tower; whilst the portcullis which once closed its approach, and the steep winding ascent which conducts to it, must have rendered the position of this garrison impregnable”—so far as that could be accomplished by art; for it is only in the hands of the truly brave that any place can be pronounced impregnable[30].

The tower, which is a continuation of that built over the well, is curiously contrived: its eastern wall is built against the old Norman door-way, in such a manner as to include within it about one-third of the open space of the arch. Parallel with this wall, on the inner side, is another erected about three feet distant, forming a long narrow slit within the tower, which, by means of the enclosed portion of the ancient arch, opens a direct communication with the interior of the Keep. Over this covered space is a sort of stone funnel, resembling a chimney, with an opening into a chamber above; and immediately below, at the base of the outer wall, is a very small pointed arch, which is supposed to have been intended either as a sally-port, or as a private entrance to the fortress when other avenues were necessarily closed. Scarcely rising above the surface, it escaped observation, and enabled a spy to disappear almost as if he had sunk into the earth; whilst, in case of discovery or of an enemy attempting to force a passage by this aperture, the funnel above presented a prompt sluice, through which melted lead, boiling water, and other destructive missiles could be discharged upon the heads of the intruders, so as completely to cut of all access to the interior[31].

The ancient Chapel or Oratory of the garrison is another of those architectural features which owe their foundation to Richard Fitzalan. It was dedicated to St. Martin, and together with that of St. George—the Baronial Chapel already noticed—is mentioned in Domesday Survey, as enjoying an annual rent of twelve-pence, payable by one of the burgesses of Arundel[32]. The view from this consecrated spot, as observed through the opening of its mutilated arches, offers one of the finest coups-d’œil in this romantic and commanding position. The chapel is a relic of great interest—but only a relic, for

The Keep of Arundel Castle,—for so many ages the residence of a warlike garrison,—is now abandoned to the ‘owls and bats.’ Of the former, the breed is peculiar to the place, and the largest in the kingdom. To the student of natural history, a visit to their domicile is a treat of no common interest. Strangers often resort from a great distance to make acquaintance with them; and many who attach little importance to Minerva, are struck with the gravity of her representatives in Arundel-Keep.

The “portraits,” here introduced, were taken from life, with a peep into their domestic economy, which is conducted in the old niche-like fire-place of the garrison, where the steel-clad warrior of other days has often prepared his hasty mess, or chafed his limbs after a cold night-watch on the battlements. There is here, perhaps, no fox to look out from the loophole and bay the moon; but these Owls are no unpoetical substitutes to proclaim the changes that have come over this once thickly peopled fortress.

When we visited them in October last, they consisted of three couples, and in size and appearance fully justified the character we had heard of them. They are not permitted, however, to remain at large; a strong circular netting is thrown over the Keep, and under this awning they may enjoy everything—except liberty. They have the advantage also of separate niches for the enjoyment of connubial happiness: but it is easy to observe that, not having freedom, they fancy they have nothing worth having. The custodé, in order to show them off to advantage, dislodged a couple; and certainly the expanse of wing which they showed in their flight to the opposite side, was much more like that of an eagle than an owl. At that moment the fact of their being prisoner seemed to have been forgotten; for when removed from their perch by an unceremonious ‘poke’ of the keeper’s rod of office, they made an ambitious attempt to soar at once into the sky; but the netting was too strong, and, compelled to keep a horizontal flight, they dropped sulkily into a niche in the opposite wall, with a peculiar barking sound, very expressive of indignation and disappointment.

Several of these horned owls, as curious specimens of natural history, have been stuffed, and advanced to posthumous honours in the Castle gallery. With one of them, the patriarch of the family, an anecdote is connected, which in justice to his memory we think it our duty to record:—Some years ago an elderly gentleman on his way through Arundel, took advantage of a short halt at the Norfolk Arms to visit the Castle. He was much pleased, as all sensible visitors must be, with everything he saw, but most with the grave moping owls of the Keep. But of all the family, one in particular had a sagacity of expression which appeared to engross the whole attention of his visitor. His horns long, and horizontally projecting from either temple; his scarlet-coloured eyes, that seemed as if they had become inflamed by long-continued study; his wings that hung loosely about him like a professor’s gown; his face, his feet—every feature in short, seemed to say—This is no common owl.

‘He’s a sagacious fellow, this!’ observed the stranger. ‘Very, sir,’ said the keeper, ‘very!—We always calls him the Chancellor.’ ‘The what? the chancellor?’ ‘Yes, sir; sometimes the chancellor and sometimes Lord Eldon—he’s so very wise!’—the stranger was highly amused at finding a namesake under the ivy in Arundel Keep; and we need scarcely add that the visitor was, in fact, the chancellor himself—the late venerable and learned Lord Eldon.

A s an ‘ivy-mantled tower,’ this Keep is without a rival in all we can recollect of foreign and domestic castles. The artificial mound on which it stands, is a dense mass of ornamental trees and shrubs—half girdled by a solitary walk along the bottom of the ancient fosse, over which the redundant verdure throws a delicious freshness. On the side facing the open court, the masonry of the Keep is concealed under a thick mantle of ivy, which climbs to the very summit, and in its ascent, flings its luxuriant festoons over every projecting fragment. The interior is clothed with the same perennial drapery; and once deserted by man, nature has taken the ruin under her own immediate protection—repairing the shattered walls, filling up every blank, and mantling the whole in her own livery.

To those who are fond of romantic scenes and impressions, it would be difficult to select a more congenial spot than the Keep in question; particularly by moonlight, when all the rich and waving outline of the ruin is brought forward in bright silver tracery. In certain conditions of that luminary, the effect of light and shade is peculiarly striking; and it requires but little assistance from imagination to embody, among its isolated projections, the airy forms of sentinels planted at various intervals; their arms coming every now and then into sudden relief, as the moon touches the glittering leaves with her

fitful light, and the night breeze communicates to the detached branches a sort of temporary, life-like movement. It is then that airy visions are said to haunt the place, and not unfrequently cross the path of the intruder:—

Of the four original towers, planted at regular intervals around the enclosed space beyond the Keep, all, with the exception of the barbican already mentioned, appear to have been the work of the period in question. They are of the same form as that of the outer gateway, and have the facilities of free intercourse by means of a connecting walk along the ramparts. They were all dismantled during the last siege; but in the ruins which still remain, the characteristic style of Earl Richard is apparent. Two sally-ports of the same date, and at opposite sides of the enclosure, may still be seen in a state of preservation.—See ‘History of the Castle.’—50.

The next embellishment bestowed upon the Castle of Arundel was the great Hall. It was erected by Richard, grandson of the Richard Fitzalan whose taste and munificence had contributed the addition already mentioned.