berland and the Noble House of Percy,' Mr. John Judkin Butler, who was sitting within four persons of the Lord Mayor, rose, and said aloud,

I have drunk that toast before; and d-n me if I drink it again, for he is a base apostate. The Lord Mayor, on hearing so unexpected and so gross an insult passed on his Majesty's representative, immediately rose and said, I will not sit here and allow any individual at my table to make use of language reflecting on the Noble Duke who honoured us with his company this day, I therefore will insist on the individual who has been guilty of such conduct to withdraw," Mr. Butler refused to obey the Lord Mayor's request, and still went on saying the Duke was an apostate, when a near relative of the Lord Mayor's advanced to Mr. Butler, and said he hoped he (Mr. Butler) would see the propriety of complying with his Lordship's request.

.“Mr. Butler demanded, • Do you, sir, tell me to leave the room?' The Lord Mayor's brother— I tell you that you ought to leave it.' Mr. Butler- I tell you that I will not leave the room for you, sir, or the Lord Mayor; and I demand, if you are a gentleman, sir, that you will give me your card !' The Lord Mayor hearing and seeing such violence of language and the gesticulation that accompanied it, and apprehending a breach of the peace, desired two peace officers to be stationed in the room. Mr. Butler, notwithstanding, went on for some time muttering imprecations upon apostates of all kinds, when at length an Alderman proposed The health of the Lord Mayor, and good night," which being drunk, his Lordship retired ; and thus ended this unseemly affair.”

However, it was not here that an affair which, in such an assembly, camot be justly designated as unseemly, concluded. Mr. Sheriff Hoyte gave a dinner, which the Lord Mayor declined to attend, as Mr. Judkin Butler had been invited. The only remaining event which remains.to be recorded is, that Mr. Judkin Butler, on being called on for a toast at Mr. Sheriff Hoyte's dinner, proposed the health of a gentlemen' whom he declared to be far better entitled to the name of " the Liberator," than Mr. O'Connell. He alluded, he said, to' Mr. Peter Burrowes “ the Chief Commissioner of the Insolvent Court," and, although his political principles differed essentially from the opinions of Mr. Burrowes, yet, as that impartial administrator of a very salutary law (loud cheers) had conferred repeated obligations on a great majority of the gentlemen whom he had the honour to address, (loud cheers) he should be the first to hold out an example of the propriety of merging public animosities in the sense of individual benefit, and he should, therefore, propose the health of the man to whom the guild of merchants, and indeed almost the whole Common Council were so largely, and many of them were so recently, and were likely to be again so speedily, indebted." It is almost unnecessary to add that the effect of this speech was electrical, and that the bealth of “ the Liberator” was drunk with grateful acclamation,




Tam just returned from Newstead Abbey, a place which is associated in my mind with the most interesting recollections. I remember the first time that I saw the place was in my early days, and soon after Lord Byron's marriage.i

The Abbey was not, at that time, usually shown to strangers, but, through the favour of a female domestic, we were permitted to spread. our cold collation in the hall. I remember walking through the venerable cloisters, with my head full of romance, and a volume of the " Hebrew Melodies" in my hand, lent to me by "my, Lord's own gen, tleman.”

This said personage, whose intimate connexion with the great poet invested liim with considerable importance in my estimation, conde. scended to escort our party to see the ragged rock," that monument of folly, raised at so much expense and trouble by jhe old Lord, I re. member listening, for the twentieth time, to the traditionary story of the ship which was launched upon the lake by the whimsical old gentleman, realizing the prophecy of Mother Shipton, that a man of war would sail over Sherwood Forest.". In the castle, which is an octagon building of a modern date, our guide pointed out to us some curiosities which they had purchased during their late sojourn abroad, such as a large Turkish coat of horse hair, and some Albanian trifles. On our return to the Abbey, my insatiable curiosity relative to Lord Byron's, adventures was met by a plain unvarpished description, which, in some degree, weakened the illusion created by the glowing tint thrown over the graphic sketches of the “ Childe.”

F inition My companion was the son of a farmer, and, according to vulgar phraseology, a "chip of the old block.". He was certainly a decisive proof that education alone caạnot confer ability; for though Lord Byron had bestowed much culture upon him, the soil did not appear to me of a productive quality: he was of the inferior mental stature, or, at least, with a capacity formed for the ordinary duties of life. How far the noble bard might be disappointed in his project of manufacturing a convenient travelling companion out of such humble materials, I cannot pretend to say; but the honest enthusiasın with which his protege dwelt upon the good qualities of his patron, proved that he was not deficient in the sterling virtue of gratitude. "Ah!" said be, my Lord may be odd, but he has such a good heart!"; But to return to the Abbey.

It was in a very dilapidated state, and the garden a complete wilderness. In the front court was the fountain described in - Don Juan"—

kimi • Newstead Abbey, the hereditary seat of the Byrons, is situated in the middle of Sherwood Forest, and was built by Henry II. as an expiatory offering to the manes of Thomas à Becket. The monks enjoyed uninterrupted possession of the abbey till the reign of Henry VIII. who persecuted them with merciless cruelty, and compelled them to abandon the place.

It was bestowed by this monarch upon Sir John Byron, and sustained a siege during the civil wars in Cromwell's usurpation.

On the restoration of Charles II. its lawful possessors, who had followed the fortunes of their exiled sovereign, were reinstated in their possessions.

“Symmetrical, but deck'd with carvings quaint,

Strange faces, like to men in masquerade,

And here perhaps a monk, and there a saint.' The cloisters were, at that time, peculiarly dreary and desolate-looking. They formed an area, in the centre of which stood a stagnant fish-pond. The green sward surrounding it—the Gothic windows, overgrown and partially obscured by the dark foliage of the spreading ivy, carried the imagination back to the dismal period of the monastic ages, an impres. sion which gathered strength as we examined the cloisters. Here the different cells were separated by low Gothic arches; and a narrow slip, partitioned off by bricks, was pointed out to us as the grave of each solitary inmate.' Several workmen were busily employed in digging around the foundations of the cloisters in search of concealed treasuresan hypothesis founded upon the discovery of a large brazen eagle at the bottom of the lake, containing a number of MSS. This research, however, like many others of a similar kind, proved a fruitless one and after several of the peaceful tenants of the cloisters had been sacrilegiously torn from their long resting places, the pursuit was abandoned. Two or three of the skeletons were laid up in the chapel.' Our entrance to the Abbey was up a flight of stone steps opening into a large hall. The walls, formerly covered with figures placed in niches, were 'deprived of their ornaments during the life of the late lord. The mantelpiece was curiously formed of inlaid marble in“various colours, and on each side were portraits of two favourite dogs. In the dining-room, which was of a moderate size, and handsomely furnished, were six

robes. This same portrait I have Jately seen in those apartments in St. James's Palace occupied by the Hon. Mrs. Leigh, half-sister to the poet. The state bed-room opened out of the dining-room. The bed furniture was black and crimson, with an infinity of gilt ornaments, and surmounted by the large eagle found in the lake. Lord Byron's bedroom was furnished comfortably, or rather, I should observe, luxuriously ; indeed, the embellishments throughout the habitable part of the old mansion, seemed more calculated to yield temporary than perma

desolation which yawned through the venerable archway..

Whether it arose from a sentiment in the poet's mind, that his eventful life was not exactly couleur de ruse, or whether the choice of the bed-furniture was left to the taste of the opholsterer, is a matter of idle fancy ';'but I certainly recollect that the whole drapery blushed " celestial rosy red." There were two travelling cots of brass, with hangings of mosquito net, lined with pirk. A small niche, now thrown open into the room, was at that time used as a closet. It was from this spot that Lord Byron, who is well known to have been infected by that involuntary belief in supernatural influences which always attends a high degree of excitement in imaginative minds, used to fancy that he heard certain miraculous sounds.

His page, who slept in an adjoining chamber, was often locked up in this closet by way of experiment; and it is said that he never entered the room without exainining it.

Indeed, so early as his youthful connexion with the “Mary” of his muse, Lord Byron was accustomed to the visitation of “ Bogles," on his way from Newstead to Annesley Park.

Mrs. Byron's room, which was suffered to remain exactly in the same state in which she left it, was small, and opened into a breakfastroom, containing nothing worth observation except a fine picture of the Annunciation. The library was neatly and elegantly furnished. Amongst the numerous paintings was a print of the Senate House, Cambridge ; and near the fire-place were two finely polished skulls fixed upon pedestals. The grey walls of the banqueting-room were studded with heads of plaster of Paris. The ceiling was beautiful, and the chimney-piece covered with figures in different devices.

At the end of this long, narrow room, lay the stone coffin found amongst the ruins, and the cup formed. of a human skull. Both these awful mementos of mortality were used in Lord Byron's convivial parties-the one as a wine-cooler, and the other as a drinking vessel. In a small room adjoining, was the portrait of old James Murray, who had lived in the family upwards of seventy years. The inscription on the favourite doy Boatswain lay in the musical gallery, and a quadrangular monument of the purest marble, crowned by a lambent flame, records the attachment of the poet to his sole faithful friend, whose virtues are proudly exalted above the boasted claims of humanity. .. .....

From this gallery you overlook the whole range of cloisters, which I have before described. There was one particular incident which is strongly impressed upon my recollection. .

As our party were ranging and prying into every nook and corner with all the restless curiosity of youth, in the full glow of health and animal spirits, we suddenly ran up a flight of steps, and incautiously lifting up the latch of an inner , apartment, came full , upon the old Steward. The old man, who was busily engaged in his sanctum-sanctorum, which he had converted into a workshop, threw down his tools, and trembling with suppressed agitation, sternly bade us“ begone!" We fled with precipitation ; but I remember lingering behind with a feeling of remorse, as I gazed upon the venerable domestic, whose silvery locks and impotent rage, as with tremulous movements he pursued his craft, formed a striking contrast to the light elas. tic steps and beedless gaiety of my coinpanions, and whose incoherent mutterings and saddened aspect reproved the distant strains of mirth which concluded the unseasonable adventure. The old man relented at my sympathetic looks and broken apologies. “I don't mean to alarm you,said be, " yog seem to be a civil person; but there are so many vagabonds coming here and destroying things. : I have lived here many generations, and it is sad to see the old place tumbling to pieces." Such was Newstead in the summer of 1815. Fourteen years had made no greater alteration in its general aspect ihan such as the band of industry and taste had effected. On the glassy surface of the smoath lake, as heretofore, the deep shadows of the surrounding woodlands were reflected in miniature proportions, and the sloping banks

Stood With their green faces fix'd upon the flood.” Some light pleasure-boats lay at anchor, and a brood of ducks replaced the milk-white swans that formerly “ brooded in their liquid bed.” The abbey had undergone considerable repairs; the Gothic ruin of the archway was carefully preserved; and the rolling volumes of clouds seen through the open space, presented no unapt resemblance to a panoramic view of the northern regions. The court 'was laid' open, and the'antique fountain transplanted into the inner court, where it supplied the place of the green fish-pond. Several of the quaint figures ornamenting the fountain were ranged in the passages; there were two or three stone crosses; a huge gaping frog; a' monstrous specimens' of the human face divine, and the head of an Egyptian mummy. The stone steps were displaced, and our entrance now lay through the large Gothic archway of the cloisters.' These last-mentioned monkish dwellings are now converted into servants' offices, and a whole range of gloomy cells transformed into places of substantial enjoyment; no longer the abodes of penitence and prayer, these'walls resound with other strains than ave marias, and merry peals from laughter-loving' mortals succeed to the dull chime of the midnight bell. Before you ascend the staircase, a' smart, dapper groom of the chambers, who officiates 'on the occasion, presents ' you with a patent 'pen, for the purpose of inserting your name in a book kept for the use of the visitors. We

* In the gallery, I recognised the portraits of the two favourite dogs. Colonel Wildman was in the act of explaining them to a party of gentlemen, and seemed to do the honours of the old abbey with peculiar grace and satisfaction. '11

The desigliation of the rooms, of course, was altered, but the character of the place appeared to have been an object of studied solicitude. Instead of a ruinous building, partially furnished with local comforts, Newstead had been metamorphosed into a handsome piece of modern antiquity—a receptacle of high-backed chairs, finely varnished-cabinets of the reign of Elizabeth, and giants' dressed in complete suits of armour.

The banqueting-room was turned into a delightful drawing-room, hung with portraits, and embellished by one of Broadwood's grand cabinet piano-fortes ; a small, elegant harp, and work-tables profusely covered with fashionable nick-nacks, and unfinished samples of female industry. The stone coffin was exchanged for a superb cabinet, representing the battles of Julius Cæsar. But the principal object which arrested my attention was a half-length portrait of Byron, by Philips, which hung over the mantel-piece, in poetical character and classical costume. There is, in the countenance, a mingled expression of melancholy and reckless daring, truly characteristic. The other principal portraits are those of Sir John Byron ; H. R. H. the Duke of Sussex, in his coronation robes; the colonel in full uniform-his lady, and some other members of the family.

in one of the cages in the window I noticed patches of sewing silk threaded in the wires, and upon inquiry found that it was the workmanship of the “ weaver bird," who was regularly supplied, by the ladies of the family, with materials for his trade. The old hall, diniog-room, and inner oak room, remain in an unfinished state, but the rest of the apartments are fitted up in a comfortable antique style. In the room which is generally appropriated to H. R. H. the Duke of Sussex, during his frequent visits to the abbey, stands a large bed with tent-stitch hangings lined with rich lutestring, and the walls decorated with tapestry. Amongst the principal pictures throughout the

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