wall-flower,

That mocks the dungeon’s unavailing gloom;

The ponderous chains and gratings of strong iron,

There rusted amid heaps of broken stone

That mingled slowly with their native earth.

There the broad beam of day, which feebly once

Lighted the cheek of lean captivity

With a pale and sickly glare, then freely shone

On the pure smiles of infant playfulness.

No more the shuddering voice of hoarse despair

Pealed through the echoing vaults, but soothing notes

Of joy fingered winds and gladsome birds

And merriment were resonant around.”

Such were our feelings as we wandered musing and admiring amid the stupendous ruins of this once magnificent fabric.

The pomp of its splendour has passed away, and the stern wardour disputing entrance to the belted knight is now succeeded by a lank cobbler, who watches for lounging strangers, and acts as “Cicerone,” blending the most absurd and ridiculous stories in order to eke another sixpence from the purse of his auditor, and to add greater importance to himself; but he had a most amusing method of answering any startling questions as to date, by significantly observing in the purest Dorset dialect, “Why Lord love ye, zur, it wur avore the memory of ony maun in the parish!”

Apropos to dates, the earliest mention of Corfe is A.D. 978, when the Saxon annals narrate the murder of Edward, King of the West Saxons, committed here by his mother-in-law, Elfrida.

It was in the gloomy dungeons of this castle that King John starved to death twenty-two prisoners of war, many of whom were among the first nobility of Poictu, victims to the cruelty of a barbarous sceptered tyrant! Then again, we thought of the fate of Peter of Pontefract, the imprudent prophet, who, if he had turned over a page in the book of fate, should have folded down the leaf instead of incurring the monarch’s vengeance by meddling with state affairs.

It was in this fortress that the unfortunate Edward II. was murdered in 1372, by his cruel keepers, Sir John Maltravers, and Sir Thomas Gurney, who having removed the dethroned monarch from castle to castle, subjecting him to every hardship and indignity, hoping that ill-treatment might shorten his days. At last they determined amidst the profound security afforded by this impregnable castle, to effect his death in the most horrible manner, in order to prevent marks of violence being seen on his corpse, namely, by inserting a horn tube into his body, through which was conveyed a red-hot iron! Well may the traveller shudder at these ruins as they beetle over him in frowning ruggedness, for they have been the murderers’ den; and doubtless many a deed of slaughter has been committed in them, which has never come to light, under tyrannical power, which has never come to the knowledge of men or blotted the page of history.

The vast masses of the castle ruins which lie scattered about and in the vale below, form a scene of havoc and devastation, at once magnificent and impressive. The towers were blasted with gunpowder, and many

appear as if they were yet staggering from the blast of the mine which sprung them from their beds; they lean as if ready to tumble down the steep sides of the hill, and appear as if a child’s finger would roll them headlong. The ruins are in the possession of the family of Bankes.

In a meadow in the vale on the west side, which leads, by the by, to Orchard Farm, is to be seen a curious earthwork, apparently ancient British, which, from its structure, might have been a place of druidical judicature, or for pastimes. This relic has, we believe, escaped the notice of the intelligent Rev. John Clavell of Kimmeridge; and if the public are ever to be favoured with the result of his studies and patient investigations, it will be one of the most extraordinary productions of its kind.

There is a small work on Corfe Castle, published by a very intelligent resident of Wareham; and we are in hopes that the grey and hoary ruins may call forth the muse of J.F. Pennie, who resides on this wild romantic district, and whom we met with pleasure in our rambles.

JAMES SILVESTER, SEN.

NOTES OF A READER.

KNOWLEDGE FOR THE PEOPLE; OR, THE PLAIN WHY AND BECAUSE.

Part 6.--Sports and Pastimes.

We quote the following from HUNTING:

Why is it inferred that hunting was practised by the ancient Britons?

Because Dionysius (who lived 50 B.C.) says, that the inhabitants of the northern part of this island tilled no ground, but lived in great part upon the food they procured by hunting. Strabo (nearly contemporary) also says, that the dogs bred in Britain were highly esteemed upon the continent, on account of their excellent qualities for hunting.

Cæsar tells us, that venison constituted a great portion of their food; and as they had in their possession such dogs as were naturally prone to the chase, there can be little doubt that they would exercise them for procuring their favourite diet; besides, they kept large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, both of which required protection from the wolves and other ferocious animals that infested the woods and coverts, and must frequently have rendered hunting an act of absolute necessity.—Strutt.

Why is hunting considered more ancient than hawking?

Because, in the earliest ages of the world, hunting was a necessary labour of self-defence, or the first law of nature, rather than a pastime; while hawking could never have been adopted from necessity, or in self-protection.

Why was hunting originally considered a royal and noble sport?

Because, as early as the ninth century, it formed an essential part of the education of a young nobleman. Alfred the Great was an expert and successful hunter before he was twelve years of age. Among the tributes imposed by Athelstan, upon a victory over Constantine, King of Wales, were “hawks and sharp-scented dogs, fit for hunting of wild beasts.” Edward the Confessor “took the greatest delight to follow a pack of swift hounds in pursuit of game, and to cheer them with his voice.”—Malmesbury. Harold, his successor, rarely travelled without his hawk and hounds. William the Norman, and his immediate successors, restricted hunting to themselves and their favourites. King John was particularly attached to field sports, and even treated the animals worse than his subjects. In the reign of Edward II. hunting was reduced to a perfect science, and rules established for its practice; these were afterwards extended by the master of the game belonging to Henry IV., and drawn up for the use of his son, Henry Prince of Wales, in two tracts, which are extant. Edward III., according to Froissart, while at war with France, and resident there, had with him sixty couple of stag-hounds, and as many hare-hounds, and every day hunted or hawked. Gaston, Earl of Foix, a foreign nobleman, contemporary with Edward, also kept six hundred dogs in his castle for hunting. James I. preferred hunting to hawking or shooting; so that it was said of him, “he divided his time betwixt his standish, his bottle, and his hunting; the last had his fair weather, the two former his dull and cloudy.”

Ladies’ hunting-dresses of the 15th century, as figured in Strutt’s Sports, &c., differ but little from the modern riding habit.

Why are greyhounds still petted by ladies?

Because in former times they were considered as valuable presents, especially among the