eye rests upon the foundation of a stronghold which tradition says was once the castle of Sandwich. It was in this fortress that the glorious Bastard Faulconbridge, whom Shakspeare has for ever immortalized and enshrined in every true English heart, and whose fire, chivalrous bearing, and gallantry the prince of poets alone could have described, was brought to bay, and his gallant spirit for ever quelled. With nine hundred followers, the Bastard threw himself into the castle, but, outnumbered and overpowered, he was forced to capitulate upon a promise of pardon. The promise, however, was not kept, as he was carried prisoner to Northampton, and there executed.

During the reign of King John, Sandwich must have presented a stirring scene, when, "powers from home, and discontents at home," shook the kingdom to its centre, and "vast confusion, post-haste and romage," pervaded the land from end to end. Accordingly, I find that this Cinque Port was one continued scene of discord, hurry, and contention. The true and loyal Hubert de Burgh, who, when all Kent had yielded, and London itself, "like a kind host," had received the French, alone held out Dover Castle, managed to fit out forty ships from the Cinque Ports, with which he encountered, sank, and destroyed eighty sail of the French. The Dauphin, however, landed at Sandwich with his power, and set fire to the town.

The navy of the Cinque Ports must have been, as early as the year 1293, both formidable and efficient, since I find that between that year and 1295 they carried terror and consternation to the French coast, destroying their fleets, and slaying so many of the French sailors that France was for a long time afterwards entirely destitute of shipping. The Cinque-porters also this year captured twenty large Spanish ships laden with wine, which they brought into Sandwich and made a glorious revel, keeping wassail for many days.

In the year 1342, the quaint old streets of Sandwich again glittered with arms and armour, resounded with the beat of drum, the bray of trumpet, and the tramp of steeds; for, in this year, Edward the Third arrived with all his chivalry, bringing with him, also, all his war-engines from the Tower, and embarked for France, in order to seize upon the Duchy of Bretagne for Sir John de Montfort. The war-engines, however, were left behind, in consequence of there being no shipping to transport them with the King's power. He therefore ordered the Cinqueporters to press ships, and re-convey them to the Tower after his departure. In 1345, Edward again, together with his Queen Philippa, embarked at this port, in order to obtain the earldom of Flanders for Prince Edward, through the intrigues of James d'Arteville, the brewer of Ghent; and in 1357, after the battle of Poictiers, the Prince of Wales landed at Sandwich, bringing his prisoner, the King of France and his son Philip. In 1372, three thousand lances, and ten thousand archers, were summoned to Sandwich, preparatory to embarkation in order to save Thouars and the rest of Poictou."

In 1385 the French, burning with rage, set their wits to work, and constructed a rampart of wood, which (on their invasion of the coast) they intended should protect them from the terrific showers of our Kentish bowmen, whom they especially dreaded. This wall was twenty feet high, and three thousand paces long; and at intervals of twelve feet there was a strong tower, capable of holding ten men. Each tower was

ten feet higher than the wall; and the whole embarked on board larg vessels, with machines for hurling stones, guns, and ammunition for siege, together with the artist who invented the fortification. According to Holinshed, it was assailed on its voyage, and actually captured and brought to Sandwich, where, being set up on the shore, it was made use of against the very force who had invented it.

In 1416, Henry the Fifth, whilst he was stayed by contrary winds from embarking for Calais, lodged at the house of the Carmelites in Sandwich. In 1435, the French assailed the town unexpectedly, and plundered it. And again, in 1456, they fell upon it, sword in hand, and committed considerable spoil and destruction. The following year, also, the Marshal de Breze disembarked four thousand heavily-armed troops near the town, and, fighting a desperate and bloody battle, got possession of it; and, after plundering, and endeavouring to fire it, hastily reembarked his men-at-arms, and re-crossed to France.

In 1459, the Earls of March, Salisbury, and Warwick, landed at Sandwich. In 1469,* the King spent Whitsun-Eve in Sandwich, when he issued the following order :-"All women, whose husbands or lovers are abroad in the service of Clarence and Warwick are to be forthwith dismissed the town."

In 1475, we find in the records that the Kynge of England embarked at Sandwich, with the finest army that had ever passed from Britain, and landed at Calais. In the year 1488, it is recorded that a murderer claimed sanctuary in St. Clement's church, and "toke hym to his crosse to depart the lande." In 1572, Queen Elizabeth visited Sandwich; on which occasion she resided in a house in Strand Street, now in possession of James Wood, Esq., which is still to be seen in the same state as when the maiden Queen was its tenant. Henry the Eighth was also twice lodged in this house.

In 1648, we find the murder of Charles the First thus recorded : — "This yeare was the bloodiest that ever came to poor England, for Cromwell, and many more of those cursed limbs of the devil, and firebrands of hell, consulted together, and on the 30th January most wickedly and traitorously murdered our gracious King; so that we may cry and say, 'The breath of our nostrils, the Lord's anointed, was taken in their pit.' In 1648 the mayor received orders to apprehend the Duke of York; who, says the order, "will probably attempt to escape in woman's apparel." In 1659, the King came to Sandwich, together with the Duke of York, the chivalrous Rupert, and the Earl of Sandwich. On this occasion his Majesty, without dismounting, drank a cup of sack at the door of the Bell Inn, to the health of the mayor, who handed the

same.

The Cinque Ports had their own peculiar and particular modes and methods of punishment, as we find it on record that there was a certain stream called the "Gestling," which ran beside one of the gatehouses of this town, and which was used for the purpose of drowning

Copy of a letter from the King to the mayor this year. "To our trusty and welbeloved Mayor of Sandwiche, And where ye have in ye warde, our rebelle and traitour, Blacke Barre, we straiteley charge you that incontinent ye sitte and inquire of hym, and his trayterous demenyng, and without delay proceed to his lawful punycion, and execution, as ye wol do us plesir." On the same day Barr was

executed.

criminals. We also find a spot of ground pointed out just without the walls, in the direction towards the sand-hills upon the sea-shore, which by some are affirmed to be the identical remains of Cæsar's sea-campa spot particularized as the locality prescribed for a most cruel and terrific retribution for the evil-disposed. This portion of ground was dedicated to the punishment of those delinquents condemned to be— buried alive.

THE CHILD'S LAST DREAM.

"My father, I am so happy!"
The pale young creature spoke,

And the voice that trembled with its joy
The solemn stillness broke.
The parent bent him, listening,

To where the sweet child lay,
And tried, but vainly, to withhold
The tears that forced their way.

"My father, I am so happy!

I dream'd that we last night
Were pilgrims of another world,
A clime of sunny light.
And a glory shone around us

That mortals could not see,
And live to tell to wond'ring minds
Its deep intensity.

"On, by the side of waters,

That flow'd in peaceful rest,
Where the fair swan in its bosom
Bedew'd its snowy vest.
Through forests, where the sunbeam
Play'd on each branch and stem,
Like crystal from the deep sea-mine,
Or glow of eastern gem.

"And the perfume of sweet flow'rs

Stole o'er the charmed sense,
And music, not of earthly tone,

Came, but we knew not whence.
It seem'd as if the thrilling strain
Were harp'd by seraphim,
And methought the touching melody
Was like our evening hymn!

"The cadence ceas'd-a sound arose
That made our hearts rejoice,
Far dearer than the richest swell,-
It was my brother's voice!
And soon drew near an angel form,
With locks of radiant gold,

And wings made of the rainbow's hues :
'Twas beauteous to behold.

"Sister,' he cried, and kiss'd the tear Of joy from off my cheek,

Thou 'rt come, for whom I've left yon
realm

Of happiness to seek ;
Father, thou art expected here,

My mother waits thee now,

To place the crown of dimless light
Upon thine honour'd brow!'

"And he smiled on us, my father,
And took each by the hand,
As joyously he welcomed us

Unto that blessed land.

A few brief moments, and we were
Clasp'd to my mother's breast,
She who was laid in yon church-yard,
Where I would also rest!

"Hark! 'tis the music, father!
It seems to linger here,
It is their voices calling us

To dwell with them elsewhere.
Throw wide the window, father,

And let the sweet strains come;
Oh, that my heart could soar with them
Back to my mother's home!"

The wish was heard, the head droop'd
low,

And like a flow'r she died,-
The spirit sought that heav'nly land,"
For which it meekly sigh'd.

The father gazed upon that face,

O'er which the dark locks stray'd, And sorrow'd, as he thought that one So beautiful must fade.

He hush'd the agony within,

And reverent held his breath,

While looking on that placid brow,
So calm, so fair in death!

He kiss'd the roseless cheeks, o'er which
The setting sunbeam shone,

And murmur'd, as the tears fell fast,
"My God, she is thine own!"

THE PORTRAIT.

BY ALFRED CROWQUILL.

I turned my eyes round the chamber, wondering what would be the next to speak; I watched intently from gauntlet to broadsword, from Indian bow to the cumbrous matchlock, and as a gleam of moonshine, flickering through the woodbine of the casement, sparkled for a moment on a small steel casket, I fancied almost that it moved, and I should see it unlock itself, and hear the many secrets of which it had been the depository, but another look convinced me that it was motionless, and I was disappointed, for I well knew its antiquity, and longed to hear of its experiences.

As I continued my scrutiny, I was startled by observing the eyes of the portrait opposite me move, the breast heave, and a slight murmur escape from the lips; and such lips!

It was a beautiful portrait of the last century, of a lovely young girl, whose peculiarly feminine beauty, and dove-like expression of eyes, I had often gazed upon with pleasure, and yearned to know the lights and shadows of so fair a creature's life.

When first its soft murmuring voice broke upon my devouring ear, my heart beat rapidly, and I seemed like a person just struggling out of a slumber. For a moment it appeared indistinct, but gradually became clear and palpable. It spake as follows:

Good friends! since we are doomed to be packed together in our possessor's curiosity shop-I think it but polite to call it so I have listened to your beguiling adventures with pleasure, for they tend in some measure to drive away the ennui, to which, as passé things we are condemned. Inspirited therefore by your example, I will try to recall to my memory some few passages of my life, that is, in the life of the creature I represent. That she was beautiful, I believe it is unnecessary for me to say. Look at me! I represent her faithfully! Her beauty was only skin-deep like mine, but not so lasting. Age has made me more valuable, whilst it destroyed her power.

When I was created by the painter's master hand, I was pronounced a living likeness! It was true; for I grew into life under the limner's magic skill, and beheld my beautiful original before me, and felt the tremulous touch of the young painter as he looked abashed into her deep blue eyes, for the bright light that he dared to hope to transfer to me that look made the eloquent blood rush even to his noble forehead, whilst the fair sitter's fringed lash sank over her dangerous orbs with soft timidity, but even then there was a scornful curl of triumph on her lips, that belied the language of her eyes.

At the conclusion of her sitting she arose, and swept with grace unparalleled from the room; the painter's gaze followed her, and a deep sigh escaped from his very heart; he then turned to me, and afterwards flung himself into the chair she had quitted, and gazed with a painful intentness upon me; he was young and nobly handsome, so he naturally had bis day dream, and the world, and worldliness, were alike forgotten in the thoughts that rushed through his impetuous mind. One moment a dark frown shadowed his brow, which some sunny thought instantly

dispelled; anon it returned, and was again chased away by a bright triumphant smile. What were his thoughts? I could well guess! he sat thus entranced until the twilight shut him from my sight, and I saw no more, but I heard his plaintive sighs.

Maria Leslie, the being I represent, was an only child, born to inherit great beauty and large possessions; she was kindly loved by her parents, who could not behold in her the slightest fault; she was admired by all who came within the magic circle of her charms, for the brightness of her beauty so dazzled the hearts of her beholders, that they could scarcely think it possible that aught of evil could be so enshrined.

Vanity was her besetting sin. As a child her little coquetries and vanities were only smiled at by all, as being exceedingly droll; the continual praises of menials, and the fond indulgence of her parents, who laughed at her little womanish ways, when but yet a girl, had drawn her from the society of children like herself, and made her ape the manners of grown up people; she was a little actress !

She was about eighteen when I was made the almost living likeness of her, by the young and enthusiastic painter, who had much better have bestowed his love upon me, for I was all his own, and would always have remained the same; I was indeed superior to my original, for beneath my beauty, a cold heart was not hidden; all her love was engrossed by herself, and consequently she had none to bestow on others; day after day did the young painter stand by her easel, and endeavour to infuse some of his soul into hers, and rouse her to excel in the most glorious of arts, but in vain; her vanity prompted her only to seek accomplishments of an easier cast, that should dazzle and enchant others; she found that to conquer in the painter's mystery and cunning, was not so easy; it must be a true love that can ever woo any of the sister arts, with hopes of success. With divided thoughts you must never kneel at their shrines.

Fatal indeed was the indulgence of his mad passion for this divinity; although of a good family he had no broad lands to lay at the feet of the proud and haughty beauty; yet without hope to wear the prize, he still dared to love. It is astonishing how little flame will keep up love; a smile, or an accidental pressure of the hand will last for weeks; full well did the young heartless coquette know and see the net which she had thrown around her victim, nor appeared she conscious of the cause of the pale cheek and trembling voice of the young painter, who lived but in the poisonous fascinations of her presence.

Pallid grew the cheek, and more brilliant the lustre of his eyes, as month after month rolled on, and found him still by his pupil's side; his steps became languid, his smile dejected, and art seemed no longer the object of his enthusiasm.

One early dawn he stood in the gallery, and with careful hand made a copy of me, but this was done stealthily, and in secret. Foolish boy! he bore it to his humble roof, with bright visions of future glory, to embitter his hours with vain and feverish thoughts over the counterpart of his destroyer.

Unavailingly did he struggle with his better feelings, but the strong passion of youth is not easily mastered; yet often did he resolve to break his dishonourable thraldom, but when she bestowed on him a bewitching smile, how soon his resolution was broken, and how soon he became again her willing slave.