Amongst those confined within this fortress during the reign we speak of, were the Archbishop of York, the Bishops of Ely, Lincoln, Worcester, Exeter, and Bath, with Dr. Fecknam, the former Abbot of Westminster, and other church dignitaries, who were deprived, and endured a protracted imprisonment on account of their refusal to acknowledge the queen's supremacy. We also find the name of Lady Catherine Grey (sister of the ill-fated Lady Jane) in the list of Tower prisoners. Under pretext of having married without the royal assent, this lady and her husband, the Earl of Hertford, were committed to the Tower, and placed in separate apartments. The unhappy Catherine, after a long illness, during which her husband was forbidden to see her, died in captivity; and the earl was not only heavily fined, but endured nine years imprisonment: the severity exercised in this case is attributed to Lady Catherine's affinity to the crown-a circumstance which is said to have kept up a spirit of jealousy and apprehension in Elizabeth's mind. We can but mention the names of the Earl of Lenox with his Countess, Arthur and Edmund Pole, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, the Earls of Arundel and Southampton, Lords Lumley and Cobham, who with a multitude of others suf fered in this reign. In 1592, Sir Walter Rawleigh, who had long basked in the sunshine of court favour, incurred the royal displeasure by an amour with the beautiful Elizabeth Throckmorton, and was consequently committed to the Tower: his imprisonment, however, was but of short duration, and subsequently the church consecrated the love for which he had suffered: but the means through which he regained his liberty are strangely at variance with the great character of one so justly celebrated. Seeing from his prison-window the queen's barge pass by, he burst forth into a well feigned fit of madness: in his ravings he intreated of the governor that he might be allowed to go forth in disguise and to ease his mind with but a sight of his royal mistress-a request of course too extraordinary to be granted. A struggle ensued-the jailor's new perriwig was torn from his head and daggers were drawn; at which critical point the belligerents were separated, without further injury than a smart rap of the knuckles sustained by the goodnatured Sir Arthur Gorges who had thus seasonably interfered. Due care was taken that this entertaining piece of Tower theatricals should find its way to the royal ear; which, followed up by a characteristic epistle, procured his pardon from Elizabeth, to whom the grossest adulation was acceptable. "My heart (writes Sir Walter) was never broken till this day, that I hear the queen goes away so far off, whom I have followed so many years with so great love and desire in so many journeys, and am now left behind her in a dark prison, all alone. While she was yet near at hand, that I might hear of her once in two or three days, my sorrows were the less, but even now my heart is cast into the depth of all misery. I-that was wont to behold her riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus, the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure face like a nymph, sometime sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometime singing like an angel, sometime playing like Orpheus. Behold the sorrow of this world! once amiss hath bereaved me of all! &c." Modern and less courtly lovers may smile at this glowing rhap sody upon "the bright Angelica"-the virgin queen of sixty. The whole of the bove event stands as a scene of comedy amid the general gloom of Tower history. The fate of Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, and the romantic circumstances m connection with it, are too generally known to require recital in the present case. The execution of this once favored nobleman, which took place in Feb. 1601, is commonly supposed to have darkened the remaining days of Elizabeth—in March, 1603, she departed in sorrow to the grave.

The progress of our task has naturally led to the darker shades of Britain's annals; for the chronicles of the Tower of London have but a gloomy affinity to the brilliancy of courts, and refer but little to those points of the human character which constitute the true nobility of man: and it is a humiliating fact, that the events we have just touched upon should have been contemporary with a ministry unrivalled in Europe for its wisdom; a court celebrated for its magnificence; and an age which has handed down to posterity a rich treasure of undying intellect. But the English court in this and preceding reigns, was a truly perilous position to occupy: the wrath of kings and the conflicting interests of the ambitious, in too many instances hurled the hapless court luminary from his sphere, and the course which was begun in the palace, led to the Tower, and ended on the scaffold.

JAMES I 1605.—This monarch is represented in a plain suit of tilting armour: the burdon, or lance for running at the ring, with which the figure is armed, possesses a formidable appearance, being 14 feet long, and 2 feet 3 in circumference; but the handles of these lances were made hollow, and convey the idea of a weight which they do not in reality possess.

Shortly after the accession of James, Lord Cobham, George Brooke, his brother, Lord Thomas Grey, of Wilton, Sir Griffin Markham, Anthony Copley, and two Romish priests were charged with a plot against the king, in favor of the Lady Arabella Stuart. In this matter Sir Walter Rawleigh was involved, and with the rest he was committed to the Tower; but as the plague was then raging in London, (1603) the trial took place at Winchester. After the arraignment and conviction of Brooke, Markham, Copley, and the two priests, Sir Walter was placed at the bar: upon a trial in which even the appearance of justice was disregarded, and enduring from the attorney-general a torrent of low invective and abuse, disgraceful to the name of Sir Edward Coke-the illustrious prisoner was declared guilty, and sentenced to die; but being left to the royal mercy, he was imprisoned in the Tower. After a confinement of upwards of twelve years, he was set at liberty, and placed at the head of an expedition to Guiana, which had for its object a search for mines: but the project failed, and James was at that time eagerly seeking an alliance between his son (Prince Charles) and a daughter of the king of Spain. These circumstances afforded Gondamor, the Spanish ambassador, opportunities for lowering Raleigh in the estimation of the king, and thus avenging those chas tisements which had been inflicted by that warrior upon the insolence of Spain. This object succeeded too well; the king was weak and mean enough to issue a proclamation expressive of his disapproval of the Guiana expedition, and Sir Walter was seized immediately upon his landing, and again thrown into the Tower, where he was deprived of the privileges allowed in his former imprisonment, and placed in what was at that time one of the most wretched dungeons in the fortress. After two months confinement, he was abruptly informed that the king had ordered his execution: five days afterwards (29 Oct. 1618) he was beheaded at Westminster. Such was the end of the once light-hearted knight of the cloak-celebrated as a warrior, statesman, and historian. His "History of the World" (or that portion of it extant) is a work of deep research for the age in which it was written, and has been deemed a literary phenomenon even by modern philosophers. The greatness of the undertaking, and the extensive variety of information which it unfolds, may be accounted for, in some measure, when we consider that it is the result of a captivity of nearly thirteen years duration-a noble monument of the independent freedom of mind amid the darkness of external circumstances--a work that may justly rank amongst the sweetest fruits of adversity. But another, and somewhat curious fact may be adduced, in connection with the book we speak of: during his imprisonment, Rawleigh was surrounded by the elite of that age in literature and science. The Earl of Northumberland, a munificent patron of learning, suffered a long imprisonment in this reign; Thomas Allen, whose name will long be known in the "Bibliotheca Alleniana"; Dr. Dee, termed by D'Israeli "the Sir David Brewster of his day," whose labours, in that infant age of science, were associated with necromancy; Dr. Harriot, the celebrated algebraist; Dr. Warner, who is supposed to have suggested to Harvey the circulation of the blood; Robert Hay, eminent for his treatise on the globes-with many other literati of that period, were amongst the imprisoned acquaintance of Sir Walter, and probably enriched, from their respective intellectual treasures, the learned dissertations on History upon which he was at that time engaged.

On the 5th of November, 1605, a conspiracy was discovered with which all are acquainted-the Gunpowder Plot, and the Tower was the prison of those concerned in that desperate affair. They were tried at Westminster on the 27th Jan. 1606, found guilty, and executed with all the horrid barbarities attached to the sentence on treason. Implicated in this plot, we find amongst others, Henry, Earl of Northumberland, (named above) Lords Mordaunt and Stourton, with three Jesuit priests, Garnet. Oldcorn, and Garrard: the noblemen were heavily fined and imprisoned

during the king's pleasure. The priests were also imprisoned and subjected to revolting tortures: Garnet and Oldcorn were executed; Garrard escaped to Rome.

In 1614, finding the commons hostile to his son's marriage with a popish princess, James abruptly dissolved the parliament, called several of its members before the lords of the council, and committed Sir Walter Chute, John Hoskins, Wentworth and Christopher Nevill to the Tower.-Amongst other persons of note. committed in this reign, were Sir Thomas Overbury and the wretches concerned in his murder; also Lord Clifton, Sir Thomas Lake, the Earl and Countess of Suffolk, the Earl of Arundel, the great Lord Chancellor Bacon, and Sir Edward Coke.

We cannot conclude our notes upon this reign without a word or two concerning the Lady Arabella Stuart, whose name we have before mentioned in connexion with an alledged plot (by Raleigh and others) to place her on the throne. She was so far identified in the matter as to incur thereby a short imprisonment; her innocence, however, of any participation in such a conspiracy, was apparent to all parties. "She enjoyed afterwards (says Hallam) a pension from the king, and might have died in peace and obscurity, had she not conceived an unhappy attachment for Mr. Seymour-grandson of that Earl of Hertford, himself so memorable an example of the perils of ambitious love. They were privately married; but on the fact transpiring, the council, who saw with jealous eyes the possible union of two dormant pretensions to the crown, committed them to the Tower. They both made their escape, but Arabella was arrested, and brought back. Long and hopeless calamity broke down her mind; imploring in vain the just privileges of an Englishwoman, and nearly in want of necessaries, she died in prison and in a state of lunacy, some years afterwards!"

SIR HORACE VERE, Captain General, 1606, and THOMAS HOWARD, EARL OF ARUNDEL, 1608.-Two suits of cap-a-pie armour: each figure is armed with a mace.

HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, 1612.-This is a richly engraved and gilt suit of armour made for this prince, (the son of James I.) It is adorned with representations of battles, sieges, and other military subjects. A rapier is placed in the right hand.

GEORGE VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, 1618.-A full suit of plate armour. In the left hand of this figure is placed a wheel-lock petronel, and in its right the spanner, or instrument to wind up the spring.

CHARLES, PRINCE OF WALES, (son of James I.) 1602.-This suit was made for the prince when apparently about twelve years of age. In the right hand is a rapier, with a beautifully perforated steel hilt.

THOMAS WENTWORTH, EARL OF STRAFFORD, 1635.-In this suit, the armour is continued no lower than the knees: the place of the jambs and sollerets are supplied with boots of buff leather.

CHARLES I. 1640.-This magnificent suit of armour was presented to the monarch whose name is placed over it, by the Armourers' Company of the City of London: it is richly gilt, and its entire surface ornamented with arabesque work. At this period, the use of armour was rapidly giving way to the advance of fire-arms.

We now approach a period of peculiar turbulence, attended by circumstances which cannot be reflected upon without pain-torrents of blood poured forth in civil strife, and the violent death of an English monarch at the hands of his subjects

Although this uuhappy reign abounded in Tower committals, we must be brief: for if our limits would allow a catalogue of those who suffered in that protracted struggle, it would be but of an uninteresting nature to general readers; and to attempt a recital of principal events connected with such a list, would involve much matter and remark foreign to the purpose and character of our task: it must suffice, therefore, for us to observe, that during this great political tempest the Tower became alternately a prison for leaders both of the royal and parliamentary party for detail upon this subject, we refer our readers to English history.

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In 1628, the Duke of Buckingham was assassinated, and the Tower was the prison of Felton, the murderer. He was examined by the privy council, but could not be brought to implicate others in the crime; the council then, by the king's direction, sent to the judges for their opinion upon the legality of putting the prisoner to the rack: an answer was returned in the negative-the first instance we have had to relate, of the interference of the LAW between the prisoner and the torture-chamber.* He was condemned to be hung in chains.

Amongst those who suffered in this turbulent period, was Henry Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, who after about five months imprisonment, was taken from this fortress to Tower-hill, where he met his death with Christian heroism.

Soon after this, we find the statesman succeeded in fate by a churchman equally celebrated, Archbishop Laud. After a long and painful imprisonment of nearly three years, this prelate was placed at the bar of the House of Lords: the articles of his impeachment charged him generally with treason, and other crimes and misdemeanors. Serjeant Wilde, who opened the proceedings against him, was compelled to acknowledge that no one crime of the Archbishop's amounted to treason or felony; but argued that his accumulated offences "did make many grand treasons. To which Mr. Hearne, the archbishop's counsel, replied "I crave your mercy, good Mr. Serjeant, I never understood before this, that two hundred couple of rabbits make one black horse." After a trial which lasted twenty days, during which no evidence could be elicited to prove him guilty, the opinion of the judges was taken, who declared "that nothing charged against him was trea son by any known and established law of the land." The commons now changed their impeachment into an ordinance for his execution-an ordinance finally passed on the 4th of January, 1644, and by authority of which the unfortunate prelate was beheaded on the 10th of the same month. Thus died Archbishop Laud whose faults can never extenuate the disgrace that attaches itself to the party by whose injustice he fell.

Nothing occurs to us requiring particular detail during the period of the Pro- · tectorate: the apartments of this dreadful prison, however, were thickly tenanted by those who remained faithful to the royal cause.

On the morning of the 23rd of April, 1661, the Tower presented an appearance of unusual splendour-it was the day appointed for the coronation of the restored monarch, Charles II.; and at an early hour, "the merry monarch" came thither by water, making this ancient palace the starting point of his coronation procession:

* "The trial by rack (says Blackstone in his Commentaries) is utterly unknown to the law of England; though once, when the Dukes of Exeter and Suffolk, and other ministers of Henry VI. had laid a design to introduce the civil law into this kingdom as the rule of government; for a beginning thereof, they erected a rack for torture, which was called in derision the Duke of Exeter's Daughter, and still remains in the Tower of London, where it was occasionally used as an engine of state, not of law, more than once, in the reign of queen Elizabeth." After quoting the case of Felton, the learned judge wisely observes-"It seems astonishing, that this usage of administering the torture, should be said to arise from a tenderness to the lives of men; and yet this is the reason given for its introduction in the civil law, and its subsequent adoption by the French and other foreign nations-viz. because the laws cannot endure that any man should die upon the evidence of a false, or even a single witness; and therefore contrived this method, that innocence should manifest itself by a stout denial, or guilt by a plain confession. Thus rating a man's virtue by the hardiness of his constitution, and his guilt by the sensibility of his nerves!" (Vol. iv. p. 326-8vo. ed. 1791.)

it seemed, indeed, a day of revived glory with the old fortress-that day past, and its character as a palace appears to have faded for ever. Not so, however, with its occupation as a prison. The royalists now retaliated the persecution under which they had formerly groaned upon the fallen leaders of the parliamentary party; and the Tower dungeons became crowded with those who had either been employed by the Commonwealth, implicated in the death of Charles I. or actively opposed to the restoration of his son.-Sir John Elliott, whose stormy eloquence and sternness of purpose well qualified him to be the leader of a powerful party, was in this reign heavily fined and committed to the Tower during the king's pleasure: in a loftiness of spirit consistent with the genius of his character, he disdained a submission that might have procured his liberty, and consequently ended his days in imprisonment.

We must not dismiss this period without reference to an atrocious attempt that was made upon the Regalia; but our notice must brief.-It appears that in this reign the Regalia was first opened to public inspection; an arrangement which suggested to the mind of a disbanded parliamentarian named Blood, the strangely desperate enterprise of seizing upon a portion of its contents. With this object in view, he proceeded, disguised as a clergyman, on a visit to the Tower, accompanied by a female who passed as his wife: they desired to see the regalia; and just as their wish had been gratified, the lady feigned sudden illness, during which every kindness was shewn to her by Mrs. Edwards, the wife of the keeper of the Jewel-office. This circumstance, which took place about three weeks prior to the intended robbery, led to an intimacy between the parties; and the disguised ruffian having gained the friendship of the family, proposed the introduction of a pretended nephew as a suitor to the daughter of his credulous host and hostess: the artful villain made so plausible a statement of advantages to arise from an alliance, that the proposal was eagerly accepted, and a day fixed for the meeting, Blood having arranged to bring also with him two friends, who wished, as he stated, to see the Regalia. With this understanding, he departed-not forgetting a "canonical benediction of the good company."

On the morning appointed, (May 9, 1671) old Mr. Edwards had got all in readi ness for the reception of his guests, and the young lady was in her "best dress' to entertain the expected lover, when Blood arrived, accompanied by three others two of these companions entered with him, but the third stationed himself at the door, under pretence of waiting for Miss Edwards, (who had modestly kept out of the way) but in reality to act as a watch; all the conspirators were secretly armed. Blood then told Mr. Edwards that they would not go up stairs until his wife arrived, and requested that the crown might be shewn to his friends in the mean time: in compliance with this wish, they proceeded to the room, but imme diately upon closing the door, Edwards was gagged and a cloak thrown over his head: having thus secured him, they told him that they were resolved to have the crown, the globe, and the sceptre, adding violent threats in case of resistance Faithful to his trust and regardless of their threats, the old man boldly struggled to raise an alarm; but in vain-the villains by repeated blows on his head and a stab in the body, at length reduced the unfortunate keeper to a state of insensi. bility. They then proceeded to secure the booty; one of them secreted the orb, Blood placed the crown under his cloak, and a third proceeded to file the sceptre in two for greater convenience in carrying it away: but whilst thus engaged, they were fortunately interrupted by the timely arrival of the son of Mr. Edwards, who had just landed from Flanders, and little expected to encounter such a scene: the old man now revived, and forcing the gag from his mouth, cried out "Treason! Murder!" The villains rushed out with the crown and orb, leaving the sceptre behind; the alarm having become general, a chase ensued; and after a stout resistance, the desperadoes were secured, and the costly plunder restored to its proper quarter, without sustaining any important injury-Blood coolly remarking, as his prey was wrested from him, "It was a gallant attempt, however unsuccessful -it was for a crown."

But extraordinary as this incident appears, the sequel is equally strange. Blood upon his examination before the king, conducted himself with daring effrontery; he spoke of plots against the royal life, in which he had been engaged; and