The battlements of the Gate-house, assuming the appearance of small gables, the points of which, crowned with richly carved hoop garlands and vanes, correspond with those of the triple dome below, give height to the whole, and complete the beauty and harmony of the design. The Inner Court of fine masonry, embattled, appears in its original state; and is distinguished by the bay window of the Hall on the north side. The interior of the Mansion has little of its primitive character; but “the florid style of architecture which prevailed, is still conspicuous in the fair tracery, pendant, and spandrels of the bay window,” which retains its early beauty. Of the number and variety of the apartments at Hengrave, and of the splendid luxury of its domestic arrangements, some judgment may be formed from the “Inventory,” dated 1603, of which Mr. Gage prints a copy. Here we read of the Queen’s Chamber, the Chiefe Chamber, the Great Chamber, the Armoury, the Gallery at the Tower, the Dyning Chamber, the Chapell Chamber, the Chamber in which the muscycions playe, and a host of others—all magnificently furnished. The Great Chamber was hung with eight large pieces of fine arras—“parke worke with great beasts and fowls, 160 yards;” the cheyres and stooles were covered with coloured clothe of silver; the carpetts were of Turkeye worke. The Dyning Chamber had its tapestrye—“of the story of Danea.” The Wynter Parlor, its “pfuming frame of brasse” and “chesse boorde, wᵗʰ men to it.” To the furniture of the Armoury and the Musicians’ Chamber we have adverted. The contents of the “Sadler’s Shopp,” however, denotes more pointedly the wealth and luxury of the family. The saddles were of sumptuous character—“layed with gould lace;” “fringed with gould and silke;” “embroidered with goulde and purle;” and so forth.

Towards the close of the last century, the Mansion was the abode of a sisterhood of expatriated nuns. They belonged to the English Convent of Austin Nuns at Bruges, and obtained an asylum here by the generosity of Sir Thomas Gage, himself a Roman Catholic. They subsequently returned to France; but the mortal remains of many of the persecuted Sisters lie in the Churchyard of Hengrave—among others, those of their Abbess, the venerable Mary More, one of the heirs-general, and the last lineal descendant, in the paternal line, of the great Chancellor, Sir Thomas More.

Hengrave Church is very close to the Hall, and would appear, indeed, to have been originally attached to it. It has

long ceased to be used for the purpose of worship, but is kept in repair as the Burial-place of the family. It is of small structure, built of the materials common to sacred edifices in the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk—rough flint, with cement and free-stone in the battlements, parapets, groins, buttresses, windows, and arches. The round Tower, indicated in the accompanying print, is curious, and of remote antiquity. Its external aspect is peculiarly venerable, covered with Ivy-trees, the growth of centuries. The interior where, it is said, no religious service has been performed since the Reformation, the family having adhered, through all changes, to the old faith, is without pews, and contains many richly-sculptured Monuments. Among them is a superb Tomb of marble and coloured free-stone, to the memory of Margaret, Countess of Bath, and her three husbands; the first of whom was Sir Thomas Kytson—the citizen-founder of Hengrave—who died September 13th, 1545, aged 55 years. The other principal Tombs are in memory of Sir Thomas Kytson, the younger; Sir Thomas Darcy; the Bourchiers, Earls of Bath; the Cornwallys; and the Gages.

Altogether, there are few of the Baronial Mansions of England so little spoiled by time—so comparatively uninjured by modern taste and injudicious improvement. Hengrave Hall is “a fair and, in some respects, a unique example of the domestic architecture of the period of its erection.”

WEST STOW HALL,

SUFFOLK.

Within four miles—north-west—of the venerable town of Bury St. Edmunds, the traveller may notice, not far from the road-side, the turrets of an ancient House, now decayed, but which, in the palmy age of England, was classed among the stateliest of its “stately Homes.” Unless attention is directed to it, however, it will attract no passers-by; for very humble are now the pretensions of the Palace-Hall, in which resided Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and his Royal wife, the youngest daughter of Henry VII., sister to Henry VIII, and widow of Louis XII., King of France.

The Old Hall is situated in the very centre of a host of picturesque antiquities; in all directions around it exist objects of exceeding interest,—as relics of the olden time and imperishable illustrations of British History. It would be difficult to find in the kingdom so many remains of architectural splendour within a circuit of four or five miles. Bury contains the most interesting of our monastic ruins. Among them are those of the famous “Norman Tower” (still comparatively unimpaired), erected in the reign of the Conqueror, as the Grand Portal to the magnificent church of Abbot Baldwin;—the Charnel Chapel, in which Lidgate wrote,—the Church which for centuries enshrined the miracle-working bones of St. Edmund,—and the walls of the Chamber where, on the 20th of November, 1215, “the Barons” pledged “the repose of their souls” to extort the Charter of Freedom from the tyrant John. The road to West Stow is scarcely less rich in historic sites than the town of Bury. Without the north-gate are the remains of the Gateway to St. Saviour’s Hospital, where,—during the Parliament of 1446, assembled at Bury, by Henry VI.,—the “good Duke Humphrey” was murdered by Cardinal Beaufort and De la Pole; half a mile beyond, we cross the Old Toll-gate Bridge of the mitred Abbots of St. Edmunsbury; at a short distance, an ivy-clad Tower is all that remains of the Church of Fornham St. Genevieve; but tumuli still endure to indicate where the ten thousand Flemings were buried by “sloven-hands,” after the bloody battle which gave to the second Henry peaceable possession of the crown. By other roads we pass objects equally fertile of history. The Round Towers of Saxham are within ken; Risby and Hengrave Churches are close at hand; and very near us are some of the grandest and most beautiful of the Baronial Halls of England—Coldham, Rushbrooke, and Hengrave among the rest.

All who visit the ancient mansion of West Stow, will first enter the venerable Church, to which a footway leads through a field from off the main road. It is a fine example of a very early age. The Tower is square and embattled; the Chancel, apparently of a more recent date than the Nave, contains an enriched Piscina, of the fifteenth century, and many mural monuments and grave-stones of the once illustrious family of Crofts—a family now known in Suffolk only by history and these cold records of their fame. The Nave has an open roof; the brackets that support the principals are ornamented with armorial bearings of “many ancient Lords of this Manor, with their alliances.”

Of West Stow Hall very little is known. The assertion that it was formerly the residence of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and the Royal widow he had married, is supported mainly by tradition and their armorial bearings, which still exist, carved upon a stone, over the porch. Of the once extensive pile nothing now remains, except the Turrets we have pictured; and a long Corridor, reaching to a modern house—the comfortable home of a substantial farmer. The former bears ample evidence that its date is of the time of Henry VIII.; that of the Corridor is not so remote by a century.

It is certain that, after the romantic marriage of Charles Brandon with the beloved of his younger days, when death had freed her from her state-contract with Louis XII., and her early lover had become a widower, they lived for many years in comparative seclusion in Suffolk; and, although “Mary Tudor died at the Manor of Westhorpe in this county, in 1533,” it is more than probable that West Stow was one of their mansions. It was evidently of great extent; there are persons still living, who recollect a quadrangular court and extensive out-buildings; and the wide Moat by which it was surrounded was filled up only two years ago. The Tower is partially of a defensive character; the interior consists of several small chambers, one of which contains some singular paintings in distemper, the principal objects in which are these:—A boy hawking, with an inscription in old English letters, “Thus doe I all the day;” a young man making love to a maiden, inscribed—“Thus doe I while I may;” a middle-aged man, looking on—the inscription, “Thus did I when I might;” an aged man, hobbling onward—the inscription, “Good Lord, will this world last ever?” The drawings are rude, but they are of the age of Elizabeth. They were recently exposed to view by the removal of a skirting of oak; and are as fresh as if painted yesterday.

HAM HOUSE,

SURREY.

Ham House.—Few mansions are more pleasantly situated than this—the dwelling of the Tollemaches, Earls of Dysart. It stands on the south bank of the Thames; distant about twelve miles from London; the pretty village of Twickenham is immediately opposite; to the left is “Eel-pie Island,” famous as a holiday resort of many who “in populous city pent” covet periodical acquaintance with clear streams and green lanes; to the right is far-famed Richmond Hill, which, although distant a mile perhaps, seems, from the tortuous winding of the river, to form a part of the demesne; while the back ground is supplied by Richmond Park, with its graceful slopes and its thick masses of rich underwood mingled among groups of magnificent forest trees.

The House was erected early in the seventeenth century—the date, 1610, still stands on the door of the principal entrance. It is said to have been built for the good Prince Henry, eldest son of James the First; and a tradition exists that the illness of which he died was the result of bathing too freely in the adjacent river. It is, however, unlikely that the Prince ever resided here; and it is certain that the builder was Sir Thomas Vavasor, Knight Marshal, appointed, in 1611, together with Sir Francis Bacon, Judge of the Marshal’s court, and to have been “surrendered by him, together with certain customary lands, to John (Ramsay), Earl of Holderness, who died in 1624 or 1625.” We follow the authority of Manning, the County Historian, who states that by this Earl, or, more probably, his heirs, the House and Lands were “sold to William Murray—groom of the bed-chamber to James the First, and afterwards created, in 1643, by that monarch Earl of Dysart[43]—“whose widow, Katherine, on the 22nd May, 1651, surrendered them to the use of Sir Lionel Tollemache and Elizabeth his wife, her daughter, who in the year following surrendered them to the use of Sir Lionel’s will.” This daughter, to whom the honour of the Earl—“such it was,” writes Burnet—descended, having outlived Sir Lionel, married a second time (being then Countess of Dysart) the Earl, afterwards Duke, of Lauderdale.[44] The House and Estates of Ham were inherited by “her heirs by her first husband;” in whose possession they have since continued, being now the property of Lionel William John Tollemache, the sixth Earl of Dysart, and the residence of his Lordship’s brother.

The Duchess of Lauderdale—famous during the reigns of four monarchs; the First and Second James, and the First and Second Charles; and through the Protectorship of Cromwell—refurnished the House at Ham; where she continued to reside, until her death at a very advanced age. The Interior, with its gorgeous, yet remarkably tasteful “furnishing,” has been scarcely altered since the aged dame occupied the Mansion. Time has dimmed the splendour of the “hangings,” and tarnished the costly draperies of the rich looms of France; but they remain—in some places tattered and torn—to supply indubitable evidence that the “woman of great beauty, but of far greater parts,” had at all events a refined taste, and that at least a portion of the money she was “wanting in

no means to obtain,” was judiciously expended in the adornment of her House. Among other untouched relics of gone-by days, is a small Antechamber, where, it is said, she not only condescended to receive the Second Charles, but, if tradition is to be credited, where she “cajoled” Oliver Cromwell. There still remain the chair in which she used to sit, her small walking-cane, and a variety of objects she was wont to value and cherish as memorials of her active life and the successful issues of a hundred political intrigues.[45]

The Exterior of the Mansion derives singularity chiefly from the adornment the outer walls receive from a collection of Roman busts; some of which, however, having been removed by time, have been replaced by those of Poets of the age of Anne. Immediately in front stands the statue

of “Father Thames”—copied from the well-known work of the elder Bacon in the Courtyard of Somerset House. The Hall-door (which supplies our initial letter) is of very elegant and elaborate workmanship. The Hall is surrounded by an open gallery; the rooms on the ground floor contain little to interest, except the Chamber and Dressing-room of the famous Duchess—the room in which her descendant, the late venerable Countess of Dysart, also died. Passing a small Chapel, the Chambers on the upper floor are reached by a staircase of peculiar character and very considerable beauty. The balustrades are of walnut-tree, richly carved into representations of armour and military trophies of various countries and epochs. The State Apartments are, as we have intimated, little changed. On either side of the Landing are the State

Bed-rooms—one of which, containing copies in tapestry of some of the Cartoons, the young Prince Henry is said to have occupied; the bed and furniture are certainly of the period. The several Drawing-rooms contain valuable and interesting relics of antiquity; and a small closet is amazingly rich in the choicest and rarest objects of virtù—Miniature Paintings by Philip Wouvermans, carved Frames by Grindling Gibbons, carved Cupids by Fiamingo, Conversation Scenes by Watteau, Miniatures by Cooper—in short, the assemblage here is of immense value and of surpassing interest. Among its other treasures may be mentioned a Lock of Hair of the unhappy Devereux, Earl of Essex—the authenticity of which admits of no dispute; a Prayer book, the gift of Charles the First; and, in the Library, no fewer than sixteen uninjured Caxtons.

The “Long Gallery”—ninety-two feet in length—is hung with Portraits, the majority of which are original works of the great Masters who conferred honour and glory on the Courts of the First and the Second Charles. Leading from the Long Gallery is the famous “Cabal Chamber,”[46] the chairs and tables and other furniture in which have been untouched since the notorious “five” here met in secret to arrange and carry out their plans.

So unchanged is the character of the Mansion, that little effort of imagination will be required to people it with the gay courtiers and light dames of the reign of the second Charles, when the “House at Ham” was in its glory. Every object it contains is in keeping with the period; of modern furniture there is nothing; but all the tables, chairs, footstools, fire-dogs,—from things of curious and rare value down to the minutest matters of daily use,—are of an age gone by. This advantage is mainly attributable to the fact that since the Restoration the venerable dwelling has had but few occupants—two of them, the Duchess of Lauderdale and the late Countess of Dysart, having died there when their years numbered upwards of fourscore. According to Hume, James the Second was “ordered to retire to this house,” on the arrival of the Prince of Orange in London, but “thinking himself unsafe so near the Metropolis, he fled privately to France.” Subsequently the “Manor House at Ham” ceased to possess any public interest; fortunately there has been no wish on the part of its noble owners to effect “restorations” of any kind; it has been consequently suffered to retain its solemn aspect and somewhat gloomy character; and remains a striking and impressive monument of the period of its erection.

LOSELEY HOUSE,

SURREY.

Loseley House. This ancient Mansion—the residence of James More Molyneux, Esq., the lineal representative of two families, famous in old times—although sadly impaired by time and neglect—cannot fail, while one stone remains above another, to retain the interest that arises from venerable antiquity, in association with renowned names. It is situated about two miles south-west of Guildford. A long Avenue, perfectly bare of trees, leads from the public road to the House. The old Hall has been shorn of its proud and graceful proportions; repairs have been made by sloven hands; parts of the Moat have been filled up, but so coarsely, as to seem the result of accident rather than design. The principal approach is over a bridge between clumsy stables and storehouses. The odious face of a modern clock covers the antique Horologe, of which many of its old admirers make honourable mention; the Porch, which bears the date of 1812, over which is still inscribed, in Roman capital letters, the sentence—

is of a nondescript character, utterly out of keeping with the structure; a deformity which—following absurdities of outhouses and unseemly patches—carries conviction that

Nor is the impression removed upon entering the venerable Hall—venerable only from its age—for bad taste appears to have studied how most effectually to deface it. A patent stove, of Birmingham manufacture, stands a few feet from the embayed window, illuminated with the “Household Coats of the Family, emblazoned in the gorgeous tinctures of Heraldry on the glass;” a “thin” Gallery, which the gauntleted hand of one of the grim Knights of old times might shiver into fragments at a single blow, leads to some upper chambers; above the sturdy arched Doorway hang some double-handed swords, glaives, partisans, and rusty helmets, relics of the once heroic masters of the place,—

mingled with the bugles of a brass band, and the drumsticks of a corps of Yeomanry.

These unequivocal signs of neglect and tokens of indifference towards ancient honours and long-ago renown are mournful indications—grieving the heart of the antiquary, and nullifying the belief that a proud name is a noble heritage because a stimulus to rivalry in honour and in fame. It has been our bounden duty thus to notice this modern vandalism—for the humblest writer may contribute somewhat to increase a love for what is excellent by aiding to censure what is evil.

Of its internal decorations there are some interesting and valuable remains, which have neither been removed nor defaced. Mr. Shaw, in his “Details of Elizabethan Architecture,” publishes an engraving of the beautiful and elaborately-carved Chimneypiece of the Dining Room. “The compartment above the mantel is entirely devoted to a very full display of heraldic insignia, recording the descent and alliances of the family

of More; the rich effect of which is increased by the spirited carvings of the styles, and of the six variously-formed panels in which the several shields are inserted. These ornaments are all executed in fine stone, and skilfully wrought.” The ceilings at Loseley are also of remarkable character. That of the Drawing Room is especially fine. It is adorned with “Gothic tracery and pendant corbels.” In one of the cornices is inserted a mulberry-tree, on one side of which is inscribed “Morus tarde Moriens;” on the other, “Morum cito Moriturum”—being a rebus on the name of the family. The ceiling of the Bed Room, of which a portion is shown in the wood-cut annexed, is also very beautiful. In several of the compartments are introduced the Moor-cock and Moor-hen—badges of the race of More.

“The Manor of Loseley,” according to Mr. Kempe, in his introduction to “The Loseley Manuscripts,”[47] “bore its present appellation from the Saxon times.” Osmond gave it to King Edward the Confessor; the Conqueror gave it to Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Arundel and Shrewsbury, a stout leader of the Normans at Hastings fight; and after passing into the possession of various persons by inheritance or purchase, it was, early in the reign of the Eighth Henry, bought by Christopher More, Esq., whose grandfather was Thomas More, of Norton, in the County of Derby, Gent., with whom the pedigree of More of Loseley, in the Books of the Heralds’ College, begins. His son and successor, William, who was knighted by the Earl of Leicester—“the Queen being present at the ceremony”—built the Mansion at Loseley, commencing the work in 1562—it is conjectured “to the north of an older edifice.” It was evidently intended to form three squares of a quadrangle, if not a complete square. The centre of the building, which remains to this day, was completed in 1568. The Gallery and Chapel were added subsequently, but these have been “of late years demolished.” The accompanying wood-cut is of the South front; and, fortunately for the picturesque effect of the subject, a group of trees on the

lawn conceals from view the ungainly modern porch, and some other monstrous additions to the venerable building of the sixteenth century.

To Sir William More succeeded, in 1600, Sir George More, who had been knighted by Queen Elizabeth; and who, under James the First, was Chancellor of the Order of the Garter, Lieutenant of the Tower, and Receiver-General and Treasurer to Henry Prince of Wales. The last male heir of the Mores dying in 1689, the estate devolved to Margaret his sister, who married Sir Thomas Molyneux, Knight, the ancestor of the present possessor of Loseley—a name even more renowned than that with which thenceforward it became united.

It was during the Lordship of Sir George More—between the years 1600 and 1632—that the history of Loseley became deeply interesting, as associated with some of the most remarkable events and illustrious worthies of the epoch. The famous Dr. Donne—Poet, Scholar, and Divine—privately married the daughter of Sir George. Donne was at that time Secretary to the Lord Chancellor Egerton, the husband of the Lady’s aunt. The marriage was “to Sir George so immeasurably unwelcome,” that he successfully exerted his influence to procure the Poet’s dismissal from his honourable and profitable service, and consigned to a gaol the clergyman by whom the knot had been tied. His father-in-law—although earnestly intreated in a letter, still preserved at Loseley, “so to deal in the matter as the persuasions of nature, reason, wisdome, and Christianity should dictate”—separated the couple, imprisoning one “offender,” and involving the other in a tedious and ruinous law-suit, for the recovery of his “deare life.” His friend and biographer, exquisite Izaak Walton, has in his own simple and natural manner recorded the story of this young affection, and of the sad trials and pecuniary difficulties in which the Poet and his wife were for a long period involved; presenting us with a beautiful though a mournful picture of a high and generous mind struggling against the most galling of all troubles; to him the more intolerable, because of her whom he had “transplanted into a wretched fortune, which he laboured to disguise from her by many honest inventions.” At length, however, fate was not only borne but conquered; Dr. Donne entered into holy orders, became a prosperous man—King’s Chaplain and Dean of St. Paul’s—and the gates of Loseley did not for ever remain closed against him. Other names—equally immortal—are associated with this ancient house. Sir George More was the guardian of Lord Herbert of Cherbury—the Knight “whose chivalry was drawn from the purest founts of the Fairy Queen”—the history of whose life is a brilliant romance.

Queen Elizabeth paid frequent visits to Loseley during her “progresses;” and among the “manuscripts” there exists a letter, not very complimentary to the hospitality of the Mansion, in which Sir Anthony Wingfield warns his friend Mr. More that he will find the visit “a very great trouble and hinderance,” and advises him how to get himself excused from the honour. It is certain, however, that her Majesty did receive entertainment there, several times. There are letters from Sir Christopher Hatton, in 1583, and from Lord Hunsdon, in 1591, ordering Sir William More that his house be “kept sweete and cleane” to receive her Highness—and the former intimates, that a past excuse will not again serve a turn; “for,” writes Sir Christopher, “I have been heretofore informed that you had some sycke of the infectione the last yeare, and of other dangerous diseases of late in it, w’ch is now reported here as a misinformacion and for otherwise than the brute (bruit) declared.” The letter is addressed “from the Court at Otlands, to the Right w’shipˡˡ my very good frende, Sʳ Will’m More, Knight.”

ARUNDEL CHURCH,

SUSSEX.

The church at Arundel—of which we give a print of the interior from a drawing by Mr. Prout—is of very ancient date. For a series of years down to our own time, it was suffered to fall into decay; and age was gradually removing all tokens of its former splendour. The roof had disappeared from the chancel; and ivy had overgrown its carved pillars and mullioned windows; the few repairs to which it had been subjected had been carried out in bad taste; and for a long period it remained a discreditable evidence of the apathy of successive Dukes of Norfolk, rather than a monument to record the honours and glories of the race. It is now, however, in progress of restoration; its

claims upon the noble family have been recognised; the inroads of time have been effectually arrested; and it is undergoing such necessary changes (at the cost of the present Duke) as are dictated by judgment and good sense. The church occupies an elevated position north of the town, and nearly opposite the principal entrance into the Castle. Its exterior has many traces of antiquity, and not a few remains of early beauty. Age, and the slovenly hands of stonemasons, have, however, materially injured its venerable character and imposing effect—its principal injury having been sustained by the addition of a wooden spire placed above a low square tower which rises from the centre of the edifice. The church is of large size, and consists of a double arcade, dividing the nave from the aisles, above which are placed, “in what in the architecture of the age was termed the cleoestory, a row of circular windows enclosing quatrefoils—a shape of rare occurrence.” The south transept was, we are told, formerly occupied by the parochial altar; it now contains the communion-table and the font; the latter being octagonal upon an octagonal shaft, with a corresponding pedestal. It is composed of Sussex marble, and is of very early date. In the north transept was “the chantry of St. Christopher, commonly called Salmon’s”—to which was attached a priest whose endowment was the appropriation of the Church of Rudgwick, “with two acres of land, one in Rudgwick for his use, the other in Arundel for the site of his residence.” The foundation of this chantry was created by the benefaction of Edward Mille, Esq. “The first incumbent, William Baynton, took possession of the benefice on the 9th May, 1440.”[48]

The original ecclesiastical foundation was that of the alien priory, or cell, dedicated to St. Nicholas, established by Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Arundel, soon after the Conquest, and subjected to the Benedictine Abbey of Seez, or De Sagio, in Normandy. It consisted only of a Prior and three

or four Monks, who continued to conduct the establishment for nearly three centuries, until the 3rd year of the reign of Richard II., when Richard Fitz-alan, Earl of Arundel, obtained a license to extinguish the Priory and to found a Chantry for the maintenance of a master and twelve secular canons with their officers. Upon this change, it was styled “the College of the Holy Trinity.”[49]

The Collegiate church being intended as the mausoleum of his family, the founder supplied ample means to enrich it with examples of monumental splendour. The tomb of his son Thomas Fitz-alan and his wife Beatrix, daughter of John, King of Portugal, was the earliest of those placed in the church. It is of alabaster, finely sculptured.[50] It was formerly painted and gilt. It contains the effigies of the Earl and his Lady; at the feet of the Earl is a horse, the cognizance of the Fitz-alans, and at those of the Lady are two lap-dogs. Around, in niches, are small standing figures of ecclesiastics or pleureurs, with open books, as performing funeral obsequies, and above them as many escutcheons, the emblazoning of which is nearly obliterated. Other “stately tombs” are erected to the memories of John Fitz-alan and Eleanor his wife; Thomas, Earl of Arundel, and his wife, “one of the eyres of Richard Wodevyle Earl Rivers, sister to Elizabeth Queen of England, sometime wife to King Edward IV.”—recording the date of the Earl’s death, 1524; and to Henry, Earl of Arundel, the last of the Fitz-alans, erected by his son-in-law, John, Baron Lumley, with a Latin inscription, of which the following is a translation:—

There is one monument of a peculiarly striking character; it occupies an opening cut in the wall, between the chancel and the Lady’s chapel—the chapel which forms the subject of our principal engraving. They are divided by low arches. The tomb is an open feretrum or bier, carved in alabaster, and formerly painted, under which lies an emaciated figure extended on a shroud. Upon the upper slab is an effigy in plate armour, with a close tabard, emblazoned with Fitz-alan and Maltravers, quarterly, the feet resting on a horse. Two angels support the head. It represents John Fitz-alan, Earl of Arundel, who died at Beauvais of wounds received at the siege of Gerberoy, in 1435. He had selected this spot as the place of his interment; and although his remains were buried in the Cathedral of Beauvais, this singular monument was erected to his memory here.

The church encloses several monuments in addition to those we have enumerated; and in the chancel are many brasses, containing epitaphs “in obsolete Latin and monkish verse” to masters and fellows of the college and to servants of the noble families—the Montgomeries, the Albinis, the Fitz-alans and the Howards—who have held sway over Arundel for centuries, for—

The decorations of the church and its magnificent tombs were either seriously injured or destroyed by soldiers quartered in the church during the siege of the castle in 1643. The windows were formerly filled with richly stained glass, the eastern window containing a series of kneeling figures, male and female, in coat armour and mantles, with their respective armorial bearings.[51]

It is to the honour of the present Duke of Norfolk, that although a member of the Roman Catholic Church, he has deemed it his duty to restore this ancient and venerable edifice from the state of dilapidation in which it has for many years existed.

BOXGROVE CHURCH,

SUSSEX.

The Priory, Boxgrove—part of which is now in ruins, but portions of which are still used as the Parish Church—was founded by Robert de Haiâ, Lord of Halmacro, A.D. 1117, in the reign of King Henry the First, in honour of the Virgin and St. Blaise, for three monks only of the Benedictine order. The sole daughter of the founder was married to Roger St. John, who added three more; and the number was augmented to fifteen, by their two sons, William and Robert, in the reign of King Stephen. It remained, however, subordinate to the Abbey of L’Essay, or De Exaquio, in Normandy, A.D. 1149. Before the suppression, the monks were reduced to nine. But when Edward the Third assumed possession of other alien Priories, that of Boxgrove secured the privilege of being “indigena,” by which it was rendered independent, and retained its endowment—considerable in proportion to the extent of the establishment. In the year 1535, its annual revenue was £185 19s., without including the income derived from fines and renewals.

The Ruins of Halnacre, or Halnaker, House, the mansion of Robert de Haiâ, or De Haye, still exist in the grounds of Goodwood, the seat of his Grace the Duke of Richmond. To this “worthie and valourous knight,” the estate was given by Henry the First; from his descendant it passed, by marriage, to the family of St. John. In the reign of Edward the Third it was transferred, also by marriage, to the Poynings; subsequently, it passed through the hands of the Bonvilles into those of the Lords de la Warr, who gave it to Henry the Eighth in exchange for the Abbey and lands of Wherwell, in Hampshire. Halnacre remained an appanage of the Crown until towards the close of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, when the Morleys received a grant of it. In 1701, it became the property of Mary, Countess of Derby,[52] who inherited from her father, Sir William Morley. At her death in 1752, it devolved to her cousin, Sir Thomas Ackland, Bart., who sold it for the sum of £50,000 to the Duke of Richmond. The Remains are of very limited extent; sufficient, however, to indicate the former magnitude and splendour of the edifice.

Of the conventual buildings (the great extent of which may be estimated by the old walls which form enclosures to neighbouring farm-yards) little remains except the Refectory, now used as a barn; and the present Parish Church, supposed to be the Choir of the original building. Some portions of the ancient Nave, which appears to be of a

more remote era, may be traced in the broken arches westward of the Church; and the Chapter-house is attached, externally, to the North Transept, having a Norman doorway, with arches on each side of it, leading, it is believed, to a Cloister which extended to the Refectory and the habitation of the monks. It is this fine relic of the once extensive and richly-decorated structure which Mr. Prout has pictured in the appended Print. A considerable portion of it has been removed by time; and the Church is now separated from the Refectory by a huge gap, where sheep were feeding quietly at the time of our visit. Marks of a Piscina, and a place for the Bell, may still be detected by a minute scrutiny. In an old MS., which came accidentally into our hands, it is surmised that this portion of the edifice was the Private Chapel of the monks.

The exterior of the Church (represented on the opposite page) is of very imposing character, bearing indubitable tokens of remote antiquity. The Tower is low, with windows; in its general form it resembles that of Winchester, and seems to be of the era of Henry the Second. The interior consists of a Nave and Chancel, without division, with aisles on each side, north and south Transepts; and a space, westward of the Tower, which is certainly the most ancient part of the structure. In length it is 126 feet; the width of the Nave being 24 feet, and that of the aisles each 13 feet 6 inches. The Eastern Window, of three large lights, is separated internally by tall shafts and flourished capitals, and is ornamented, externally, with the nail-head moulding. This mixture of ornament affords almost conclusive proof that the structure is of the date of Stephen or Henry the Second, when the round Norman arch was first abandoned, and several novelties, which prevailed only in a few instances, were introduced. Pillars, somewhat similar in character, support the roof; but they have been consigned, from time to time, to the hands of the “white-washer,” who has effectually hidden the fine Purbeck