thousand marks, the avaricious King using it as a pretext to extort a heavy fine from his rich and munificent subject.

Another advantage this nobleman displayed over his cotemporaries was the superior cleanliness of his establishment. Even the Earl of Northumberland, whose expence amounted to the enormous sum of £1,118 17s. 8d. annually, allowed only forty shillings throughout the whole year for washing, and had for his own table but one clean cloth per month: a state of things altogether reformed by Oxford, who had learned in Flanders, practically, that "cleanliness was next to godliness."

It was owing in no small degree to this advantage among the rest, that the Castle of Heningham was the resort of all the noble foreigners, who in the present and preceding reign flocked to England; it was owing to this not a little that a fête, ball, or pleasure-gathering at Heningham, was the object of desire to the choicest beauty, and best reputed warriors of the age.

It was in the year 1514, upon the anniversary of the birth-day of Princess Mary, the favorite sister of the youthful monarch Henry the Eighth, that a grand state ball was given by the Earl of Oxford at his Castle of Heningham, to all the beauty and rank of the court, and the most eminent leaders in the field, the council, and letters.

Among the company were the victorious Earl of Surrey, who had recently returned from the north, after the successful battle of Flodden-field, and been created, or rather restored to the ancient title of his family, the Dukedom of Norfolk, and his noble and brilliant staff, the new Earl of Worcester, Lord Monteagle, Lord Danes, the Earl of Shrewsbury, and last, not least, the accomplished and graceful Charles Brandon, just created Duke of Suffolk; all these were men of tried valour and chivalrous fame.

It would be needless to swell the list of visitors by recounting the names of all whom fashion, beauty, wealth, or the many accidents of the actual time, raised in the eyes of the then great ones of the earth to the post of power and temporary regard.

There is one, however, we may not omit, his literary reputation secures him a corner in the memories of men even to this day, we allude to John Bourchier, Lord Berners, the first translator of Froissart's Chronicles into our maternal English. We might have distinguished him as Sir John Bourchier, a knight, a soldier, a diplomatist, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Governor of Calais, an able general and judicious counsellor; but we designate him as a laborious author rather, for by this title has he transmitted his name to us in ineffaceable characters. As he appears again in this brief history, we will introduce him to our readers, and say a word or two respecting his fortunes.

He was but eleven years old when he received from Henry the Seventh the Order of Knight of the Bath. He obtained his literary rudiments at Baliol College, Oxford, where his revered and unfortunate predecessor in literature, John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, had been educated before him. This admirable scholar was beheaded when Berners was but six years of age. It was remarked by a learned writer of the lives of worthies, speaking of the execution of Tiptoft, "that the axe at one blow cut off more learning in England, than was left in the heads of all the surviving nobility;" an observation better indicative of the writer's love for Worcester, and through him of learning, than a regard for mere truthfulness; for Berners, though a boy, was yet living, an equal in literary renown to Worcester without doubt. At the age of seven, Berners was deprived of his father who fell at the Battle of Barnet, April 14th, 1471. Some other steps of his fortune we have above hinted.

At the time he is now introduced to the reader he had reached his fiftieth year; a man portly, with bald, capacious forehead, grey eyes, and overhanging brows. You would pronounce him somewhat given to ease, with a thought too much of sensuality, his port, expression, and the large character of the mouth, chin and lower jaw, display plenty of power, but withal a love of the good things of life: (as men call them) wine and other indulgences we suspect he loves less "wisely" than "too well."

That young man with whom he is laughing and talking in somewhat an exalted tone, is his favorite nephew, Sir Francis Bryan; that lady of distinguished mien and considerable personal pretensions, of about forty years of age, leaning upon his left arm is Catherine Howard, his wife, the daughter of John, Duke of Norfolk, whom Shakspere represents in his "Richard the third," and who was slain in the battle of Bosworth-field.

Of foreigners not a few were invited to this fête. Two or three of those, remembered in consequence of misfortune, or the part they took in the catastrophe we intend to record, we shall mention by name; the Duc de Longueville, who commanded the French army at the battle of Guinegate, known familiarly as "the battle of spurs," and retained in England as a prisoner of honor, was among this number, as also his friend and compatriot general, the Chevalier Bayard.

From Florence were two men of much distinction present, Mangrolino and Baretti, termed by compliment Buzeccites, that is, skilful chess players-men who could play two or three games of chess at the same time from memory, without looking at the board: their honorary appellation was derived from

Buzecca, a Saracen who flourished in the thirteenth century, and was the most skilful chess player of antiquity. Besides these two Florentines, was an Austrian prince of the blood, a kind of rival, who also prided himself on his skill in chess, and who was introduced to the Earl's mansion by Reginald de Comines, a relative of the celebrated Philip, the historian. It is recorded of this prince that he had a room in his palace inlaid with squares of diverse colored marble, to resemble a chess-board, whereon he placed attendants suitably attired for chess-men and moved them by command according to the rules of a game of chess.

It will not be a matter of surprise, that by reason of this influx of noble and gifted chess-players, the imitative and aspiring genius of the English should have received an impulse toward the science, and that the game was in mighty repute among the fashionables of the day. Still less will it be wondered at, that at Heningham Castle every preparation should have been made to accommodate the taste and skill of the players, and give éclat to an entertainment intended as auspicious;-the new honors of the army staff, and the birth day of the princess combining to enhance its festivity.

And now we fear it will be deemed that this ball at Heningham is like to prove a dull affair-resembling a modern club-house meeting rather than a ball-but far otherwise was it.

To the players of cards in these our days, the card tables form the chief point of interest, but who of all the gay and whirling throng, knows even of the existence of such a nuisance as a card-table; who has any distinct notion that the elderly people in speaking of "following a particular suit" on such a night, allude to the very night the delicate and assiduous attention of a certain partner never left the dreamy brain from the moment of leaving, to the late hour of afternoon devoted to his calling to make inquiries. There were cards upon this very night, but both chess-men and card-players were seated in the corners of rooms, or out-of-the-way recesses, and seen as needless furniture, only stowed away for the sole benefit of the bounding feet and whirling dresses of the sylph-like votaries of Terpsichore.

We know not what modern censurers will deem of the fact, that some of the great dignitaries of the Church, among whom was the Cardinal St. Leverin,* were of the most zealous

Some twelve years or so before this period, Cardinal St. Leverin, Cardinal de Narbonne, and other church dignitaries, footed it with the rest of the courtiers at a ball at Milan: and Cardinal Pallavino relates that the Bishops and Doctors assembled at the Council of Trent, "rested awhile from their theological polemics, and deliberated on the important proposition of

pacers of the dance. Fathers, Doctors, Deans, and Bishops, were not ashamed to join the lightsome measure; tripping it gaily with the gay and animated maiden, and by their presence and participation adding to the hilarity, and it may be, restraining any tendency to excess. The period we refer to, renders this last surmise not extravagant. The increasing fervour of the scene, the joyous laugh, the graceful bound, the sparkling repartee, the half-whispered accent of admiration and kindling love, showed how thoroughly the appearance of equality of station and condition in the entire throng, had beaten down the reserve never wholly absent from an assembly less nicely assorted, and had paved the way to a luxurious and exhilirating entertainment.

Close against a kind of embrasure formed by a richly-carved mantel-piece, at the corner of which was a splendid marble figure with extended arms, supporting a cluster of Venetian lamps, sat two chess-players, nearly concealed and wholly unnoticed. One was the deaf old Lord d'Aubeney, late chamberlain, and his opponent was Reginald de Comines, said to be the best chess-player of the age.

It was soon apparent to De Comines that the old noble was no match for him: he was doubtless very well calculated to open an agreement with a feeble foreign prince as to the amount of compensation for alleged services or neglects due to an avaricious monarch, but he was quite out of his element at chess. De Comines was willing to humour the old man for many reasons-the most potent, we suspect, his own kindliness of heart-he accordingly continued at the table and opened his second game in the old fashioned and most primitive way, and occupied himself watching the motions of the dancers and loungers within sphere of his cognizance.

"C'est à vous maintenant," said the old lord, who had just advanced a bishop's pawn one square, and pointing to his adversary to indicate his move. At this moment De Comines heard the light tread of two females advancing to the marble figure beside him.

"And heard you not the dreadful occurrence which befel poor Lady Charlotte Lovell."

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Heart of the Virgin! no ill I trust, what has occurred Kate.” Mamma, Lady Charlotte, Hugh and I, who were at the Butcher boy's grand ball on Tuesday last, had but retired from

giving a ball." The project, after mature discussion, was adopted, the ball appointed, the ladies of the city invited, and all the fathers of the council danced on the occasion.

* Thomas Wolsey, recently made Bishop of Lincoln, was reputed to be the son of a butcher at Ipswich.

the saloon for breath and chat a minute, when who should enter but that wild goose Lovell, to ask his wife for-what think you? -her brooch and ear-rings.'

"Her brooch and ear-rings, Kate?" said the other laughing, "what in the name of wonder could he want them for? and did she give them?"

"Yes, truly smiling she undid the clasps, and without comment put them into his hands."

"And what did he with them?"

"Nay, that I know not: had it been Barnes,* I should have resolved he asked them for Elizabeth Bakyn.† I saw no more, save that he took them, bowed, and left the room."

"And she said nothing," exclaimed the listener to the tale, in a softer and impressive tone of voice, her eyes turning to the ground. "Did she seem sad, Kate?"

"No, not a whit; altho' she admitted that the selfish husband had lost all, and was about to stake them on a throw of worthless dice."

"And this is all your dreadful accident! Oh, how I envy her!" "Echec au Roi," cried old Lord d'Aubeney to the preoccupied De Comines. The beautiful girls turned round to the hitherto unperceived chess-players, and, having assured themselves that they were unheard, continued their discourse. De Comines could not resist the opportunity of viewing them more nearly. Kate, the first speaker, was a fine, tall, dark, Spanish-looking beauty of commanding appearance and unmistakeable haughtiness of manner; her figure was faultless; her demeanor and whole deportment rather majestic than winning, such as the tones of her voice would have led a hearer to anticipate. The other was less commanding, but more winning; her hair a rich chesnut; her forehead expansive, with beautifully rounded temples; her eyes blue; her skin fairest of the fair, tinted with emotion, to be more fair again when it had passed; her figure was resiliant, pliable, and graceful; her manners gentle and girlish; she seemed in expression hardly yet out of her girlhood, though in carriage a woman. She was thoroughly English in every feature, every movement: every grace was English; her eyes, so full of varying passion-her mouth and chin, that wonderful combination of modesty and intense feeling, of gentleness and firmness, so rarely seen in any but our own country maidens.

"Envy her! for what?" cried Kate, with a look of scornfulness,

* Lord Berners was styled "Barnes," being the ancient title of his family -Bourchiers of Barnes.

† Elizabeth Bakyn was the mother of Lord Berners' four natural children.