glass windows are specified among his requirements: one on the north side, with a little Mary holding her child; one on the south, with the image of the Trinity; and another on the same side, with the image of St. John the Apostle and Evangelist. He also ordered the cross and beam (the rood) beyond the altar of the same chapel to be painted well and with good colours, and two images to be made and painted where more conveniently and decently they might be done in the said chapel, one of St. Edward holding a ring, and reaching it out to St. John the Evangelist." ** Time and change have obliterated these evidences of Henry's civilization; but Westminster Abbey still contains some vestiges of his works, by which we may form a comparative estimate of the splendour of those which are no more. The royal taste for maintaining wild animals which Henry I. indulged in his park at Woodstock, was afterwards extended to the Tower, and the collection there commenced with three leopards, which were presented to Henry III. by the Emperor Frederic, in compliment to his coat of arms. It would appear by a mandate of Edward II. to the sheriffs of London, that those specimens of living heraldry were rated somewhat higher than their keeper, for they were ordered to receive out of the fee farm of the City, sixpence a day for their keep, the keeper's fee being only three halfpence. King Edward I. erected a building called the Lions' Tower, in which the wild beasts were lodged. In the sixteenth of Edward III. there remained only one leopard, but one lion, one lioness, and two cat lions, specified as being under the charge of Robert Bowre, the keeper. The first elephant which had appeared in this country, in mediæval times at least, was presented likewise by the King of France to Henry III., in the year 1255. A drawing of this animal by the hand of Matthew Paris is in the Cottonian MS.,† by which it would appear that either the creature was strangely deformed, or the powers of the draughtsman very limited. A white bear also formed part of Henry's zoological collection. The sheriffs were ordered to provide for the maintenance of this *This device relates to the tradition of the Confessor, who met with the evangelist in the guise of a poor pilgrim, and gave him a ring from his finger for alms. The ring was afterwards committed by St. John to the charge of certain pilgrims returning from Jerusalem, who were enjoined to restore it to the king, with a message foreboding his death, which shortly after ensued. + Cott. MS. Nero, D. fol. 168. 13. animal (urso nostro albo) and his keeper in the Tower of London. They were also to provide a muzzle and an iron chain to hold the said bear out of the water, and a long cord to hold it during the time it was fishing in the Thames. They were likewise ordered to build a house in the Tower for the king's elephant (Elefantem nostrum), and to make provision for the beast and his keeper.* The collection increased under successive reigns, and appears to have flourished greatly in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I.; and we have several instances in which the latter monarch indulged the disposition to cruelty, incident to his cold temperament, in barbarous combats among the animals. The collection was removed in recent times to the gardens of the Zoological Society, in the Regent's Park. Without going into a specification of the various appurtenances of the Tower, which would require more space than the proportion of the present work admits of, one or two other features may be touched upon to complete the sketch. The Beauchamp Tower, the interior of which is represented in the woodcut, is supposed to have derived its title from Thomas de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, previous to his banishment to the Isle of Man, in 1397. * Madox, Antiq. Excheq. i. 376. The tower consists of two stories, to which a circular staircase conducts. The lower story is the subject of the cut, taken when the apartment had been dismantled of the trappings by which it had been adapted for a military messroom, and previous to the work of restoration recently effected. The interior of this edifice is rich in the sad memorials of distinguished captives carved in the walls, mixed with some curious rebuses and other conceits. One on the left, on entering the room, contains the arms and name of a Peverel, otherwise unknown, but which is understood to have suggested to the Peveril of the maxim : 6 author of Waverley' the idea of his novel of Peak.' Another contains the following noble "I. H. S. Anno D. 1571. X. P. S 10 Sept. The most vnhapy man in the world is he that is not pacient in adversities. For men are not killed with the adversities they have: but with ye impacience which they suffer. Tout vient apoient, quy, peult attendre Gli sospiri ne son testimoni veri dell' angos cia mia. CHARLES BAILLY." The building which has obtained the title of the Bloody Tower appears to have been constructed in the fifteenth century, and is popularly understood to have been thus designated from its having been the scene of the murder of the young princes, Edward V. and his brother Richard, Duke of York; but the association of their violent death with this part of the Tower buildings is unsupported by any evidence. The gloomy aspect of the begrimed and time-worn building, with its lowering gateway and portcullis, and heavy flanking tower, agree with the ominous title, however acquired, perhaps from the aggregate of untimely death suffered by its inmates. The accompanying view was taken previous to the removal of the warders' lodgings which lined its southern approach on the left hand. Of the other portions of the clustered stronghold-the Bell Tower, the Martin Tower, the Byward Tower, &c., &c.-some features remain; others have succumbed to time and violence, or are metamorphosed by the work of restoration; but association has proved stronger than the material part of the ancient fortress. The poet's apostrophe rises spontaneously to the mind as we enter its frowning portal "Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame," and an host of puissant shadows fill the space between the present and the remote past, stretching beyond the boundaries of history into the regions of dreamy speculation, and time, whose darkness is only rendered visible by the ignis fatuus of a name. Not that the great Roman can, by any stretch even of imagination, be included among the genius loci of the Tower; but as we have in history a succession of Cæsars, wherefrom to choose upon whom shall be affiliated the original structure or presumed arx palatina of the Romans, it may not be going too far, supposing the Romans had a fort upon this spot-the grounds for which supposition have already been stated in the record of discoveries of Roman masonry and other vestiges on the site-to receive the idea of its having been so designated from one of the later members of the imperial family. Another fata morgana of old glimmers before the eye that reads the striking but perplexing words of FitzStephen, where, speaking of London, he says:-" It hath on the east part a tower palatinate, very large and very strong, whose court and walls rise up from a deep foundation. The mortar is tempered with the blood of beasts." FitzStephen died in the year 1191, and the time of his writing must have been considerably within a century of the erection of Gundulph's edifice, which must have appeared to him as a thing comparatively new, and the particulars of its erection familiarly known to many, as having taken place in their fathers' time, and yet the terms he uses convey the impression of some association handed down from a remote period, mentioned but not accounted for. Under this impression the idea presents itself that possibly the White Tower may be in some measure the restoration of a Roman edifice, and that the foundations it stands upon may be those upon which the blood of Roman sacrifices may have been sprinkled, thus giving rise to the saying of the mortar being "tempered with the blood of beasts." Into such figments the motes which glimmer in the faint rays of antiquity shape themselves, only to be transfigured by a change of position or the twinkling of an eyelid. But other shadows, which still cling to this time-peopled region, are the reflex of an historical substance, rendered familiar by chroniclers. Thus we learn that in the troubled reign of Stephen, the redoubtable Geoffrey de Mandeville held the Tower by authority of the Empress Matilda, Stephen's unsuccessful rival for the crown. In the first year of Henry I. we have a notable instance of prison-breaking on the part of the belligerent Bishop of Durham, Ralph Flambard, who substantiated his name by the lordly roasts wherewith he regaled his keepers; and in maintenance of the maxim that "good eating demands good drinking," he so effectually soothed their vigilance with the appliance of strong wine, that, by means of a rope conveyed to his hands in a tun of his generous auxiliary, he escaped by a window, while Argus, beguiled by Bacchus, snored unconsciously. Another attempt was less successful. In the year 1244 Griffith, the eldest son of Leoline, Prince of Wales, being a prisoner in the |