BRUCE CASTLE, TOTTENHAM
The engraving represents this interesting structure, as it appeared in the year 1686; being copied from a print, after a picture by Wolridge.
The original castle was very ancient, as appears by the foundations, and an old brick tower over a deep well, the upper part of which has been used as a dairy. The castle is said to have been built by Earl Waltheof, who, in 1069 married Judith, niece to William the Conqueror, who gave him the earldom of Northampton and Huntingdon for her portion. Matilda or Maud, their only child, after the death of Simon St. Liz, her first husband, married David, first of the name, king of Scotland; and Maud, being heiress of Huntingdon, had in her own right, as an appendix to that honour, the manor of Tottenham in Middlesex.
Robert Bruce, grandson of David, Earl of Huntingdon, and grandfather to Robert I. of Scotland, memorable as the restorer of the independence of his country, became one of the competitors for the crown of Scotland in 1290, but being superseded by John Baliol, Bruce retired to England, and settled at his grandfather's estate at Tottenham, repaired the castle, and acquiring another manor, called it and the castle after his own name. Shakspeare says,
Fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns,
and the fortunes of the two Bruces are "confirmation strong as holy writ."
The estate being forfeited to the crown, it had different proprietors, till 1631, when it was in the possession of Hugh Hare, Lord Coleraine. Henry Hare, the last Lord Coleraine of that family, having been deserted by his wife, who obstinately refused, for twenty years, to return to him, formed a connexion with Miss Roze Duplessis, a French lady, by whom he had a daughter, born in Italy, whom he named Henrietta Roza Peregrina, and to whom he left all his estates. This lady married the late Mr. Alderman Townsend; but, being an alien, she could not take the estates; and the will being legally made, barred the heirs at law; so that the estate escheated to the crown. However, a grant of these estates, confirmed by act of parliament, was made to Mr. Townsend and his lady, whose son, Henry Hare Townsend, Esq. in 1792, voluntarily sold the property for the payment of the family debts; and "although the castle may soon be levelled with the ground, yet the destruction of this ancient fabric will acquire him more honour, than if the prudence of his ancestors had enabled him to restore the three towers, of which now only one remains."1
The present mansion is partly ancient, and partly modern, and was very lately the property of Sir William Curtis, Bart. Up to the period at which the castle is represented in the engraving, the building must have undergone many alterations, as the tower on the left, and the two octagonal and centre towers, will prove. The grounds there appear laid out in the trim fashion of the seventeenth century, and ornamented with fountains, vases, &c.
NEW YEAR'S CUSTOM
BROMLEY PAGETS, Staffordshire, is 129 miles from London, and is a pretty town on the skirts of Derbyshire. This place is remarkable, or was lately, for a sport on New Year's Day and Twelfth Day, called The Hobby-Horse Dance, from a person who rode upon the image of a horse, with a bow and arrow in his hands, with which he made a snapping noise, and kept time to the music, while six men danced the hay and other country dances, with as many deer's heads on their shoulders. To this hobby-horse belonged a pot, which the reeves of the town kept filled with cakes and ale, towards which the spectators contributed a penny, and with the remainder they maintained their poor and repaired the church.
THE BARON'S TRUMPET
Thou blowest for Hector.
Sound, sound the charge, when the wassel bowl
Is lifted with songs, let the trumpets shrill blast
Awaken like fire in the warrior's soul,
The bright recollections of chivalry past;
Let the lute or the lyre the soft stripling rejoice,
No music on earth is so sweet as thy voice.
Sound, sound the charge when the foe is before us,
When the visors are closed and the lances are down,
If we fall, let the banner of victory o'er us
Dance time to thy clarion that sings our renown:
To the souls of the valiant no requiem is given,
So fit as thine echoes, to soothe them in heaven.
THE NEW YEAR
Twenty-nine, Father Janus! and can it be true,
That your double-fac'd sconce is again in our view?
Take a chair, my old boy—while our glasses we fill,
And tell us, "what news"—for you can if you will.
Shall we have any war? or will there be peace?
Will swindlers, as usual, the credulous fleece?
Will the season produce us a deluge of rain?
Did the comet bring coughs and catarrhs in his train?
Will gas, so delicious, perfume our abodes?
Will McAdam continue "Colossus of roads?"
Will Venus's boy be abroad with his bow,
And make the dear girls over bachelors crow?
Will quid-nuncs from scandalous whispers refrain?
Will poets the pent of Parnassus attain?
Will travellers' tomes touch the truth to a T?
Will critics from caustic coercion be free?
Shall we check crafty care in his cunning career?
In short—shall we welcome a happy new year?
What, mum, Father Janus?—egad I suppose,
Not one of our queries you mean to disclose.
Let us, therefore, the blessings which Providence sends,
To our country, to us, our relations and friends,
With gratitude own—and employ the supplies,
As prudence suggests, "to be merry and wise."
Nor ever, too curious the future to pry,
Presume on our own feeble strength to rely;
But, taught by the past; for the future, depend
Where the wise and the good all their wishes extend.
FALLING STONES
Of these bodies, the most general opinion now is, that they are really of celestial origin. But a few years ago, nothing could have appeared more absurd than the idea that we should ever be able to examine the most minute fragment of the siderial system; and it must, no doubt, be reckoned among the wonders of the age in which we live, that considerable portions of these heavenly bodies are now known to have descended to the earth. An event so wonderful and unexpected was at first received with incredulity and ridicule; but we may now venture to consider the fact as well established as any other hypothesis of natural philosophy, which does not actually admit of mathematical demonstration. The attention of our philosophers was first called to this subject by the falling of one of these masses of matter near Flamborough Head, in Yorkshire; it weighed about 50 pounds, and for some years after its descent did not excite the interest it deserved, nor would perhaps that attention have been paid to it which was required for the investigation