of Dunmow, a follower of William the Conqueror. Fitzstephen, who wrote in the reign of Henry II., notices it in his time as being a considerable building. "In the west part of the city," says he, "are two most strong castles;" of which he describes this to have been one. And Gervasius of Tilbury, a contemporary author, speaks still more expressly as to its importance in these words: "Two castles are built with walls and ramparts, whereof one is in right of possession Baynard's, the other is the baron Montfitchet's." The descent of this castle, and a summary of its history, will be found in Stowe and Maitland; a concise outline of which follows. Baynard, the founder, dying in the reign of William Rufus, left it to his son Geoffry, from whom it came to William Baynard; who, having forfeited his barony of Little Dunmow, and "honor of Baynard's Castle," both were confered by Henry I. on Robert Fitzrichard, the son of Gilbert, Earl of Clare. From this Robert Fitzrichard, by several descents, Baynard's Castle came into the possession of Robert Fitzwalter, a baron, in the reign of John; who having displeased that tyrant, he ordered it to be demolished, but afterwards gave him permission to rebuild it. In 1303, the son of Robert Fitzwalter acknowledged his service to the city of London for his castle of Baynard before Sir John Blount, mayor, and swore to be true to its liberties. The city, at the same time, recognised a declaration of the rights of the same Robert Fitzwalter, who is therein called "the city's banner-bearer." Several of the Fitzwalters after this period appear to have owned it, till the honour of this residence at length fell from the family, in a way Stowe professes himself unable to account for, and came into the possession of the crown.

In 1428, Baynard's Castle was burnt; and, being rebuilt by Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, he resided there until his attainder and death in 1446. The next remarkable occupant was, as noticed in our motto, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard III., who assumed the regal title there. From him it came into the possession of Henry VII.; who finally repaired it in the way represented in the annexed print, and occasionally made it the scene of some of his festivities. One of these (the marriage of Prince Arthur with Catherine of Arragon) was a splendid scene.

From the reign of Henry VII. to that of Edward VI. not much notice is taken of Baynard's Castle. About the latter period, probably in consequence of the royal grant, it appears to have been in the possession of the Earls of Pembroke, and was then called

See this curious document in Strype, Maitland, Pennant, &c. "The duke Humphrey's head" is still the sign of a neighbouring public-house.

"Pembroke House;" and soon afterwards viz. in 1553, the council assembled here, and proclaimed Mary queen, in opposition to Jane Grey:-its history, subsequently, con. tains little remarkable.

The general external appearance of Baynard's Castle was rather venerable than grand. A circular tower bounded the south-west corner, with a bell-shaped roof and three windows. Two projections had each windows in two ranges; then a hexagon tower, considerably higher than the roof, with three ranges of windows, some of them being on each side. From that to the eastern end were five projections, each containing two windows in double ranges, and terminating in pointed roofs. At the eastern corner was another hexagon tower, nearly similar to the former one. A large arched gateway towards its east end communicated, by a small bridge and stairs, with the Thames. Tops of towers, from an elevated situation, might be seen above the roof on the other side.

The interior was divided into two courtyards, each of which was completely surrounded by buildings, containing the various state and other apartments. To the upper stories of these the ascent was by staircases, winding round circular and hexagonal towers. The south side had its foundations in the river Thames. The north front faced Thamesstreet, from which was the principal entrance. The whole structure, which when perfect covered a very considerable plot of ground, was destroyed by the fire of London, leaving a mere shell, as shown in the vignette. Two of the towers, incorporated with other buildings, remained till of late years, and are shown in some of the old views of London, but have been since pulled down to make way for the buildings of the Carron Iron Company; nor has the site at present any vestige left to excite curiosity.

The scenes of the play of King Richard III. which are laid at Baynard's Castle, are 5 and 7 of Act III.; though we must bear in mind that Cibber contributed, by alteration of and grafting, to Shakspeare in this drama. Buckingham, in veritable history, will be remembered as the seconder of Dr. Shaw's sermon at St. Paul's Cross, to establish the illegitimacy of the children of Edward IV., and thus clear the road to the throne for the wily Richard, Duke of Gloucester. "Two days afterwards, the Duke of Buckingham harangued the citizens in the same strain with Shaw; and on the 25th of June, that nobleman presented to Richard, in his mother's house at Baynard's Castle, a parchment purporting to be a declaration of the three estates in favour of Richard, as the only legitimate prince of the House of York."+

Buckingham had previously planned with Gloucester, his recognition among the citi

Mackintosh's Hist. Eng. vol ii. p. 57.

ship of the well known journal, the Mercure de France. On the death of Boissy, the post was given to Marmontel, who then resigned his secretaryship, and took up his abode with Madame Geoffrin; a literary man, at that time, forming an almost regular person of the establishment of a fashionable bel-esprit. He subsequently lost the Mercure de France, by merely repeating in company a joke upon the duke d' Aumont, and the unlucky editor was even committed to the Bastile, for some days, before he would give up the real author. Marmontel was not dejected under this frown of fortune; for, in 1763, he became a member of the French Academy; and next produced Belisaire, the touching eloquence of which will never be forgotten by the reader. Now comes the second instance of his generosity, with its own reward. In order to benefit Gretry, the musical composer, Marmontel worked up several little stories into comic operas, all of which were acted with great success; and he was now so far reestablished in favour, that, on the death of Duclos, without any solicitation on his own part, he was appointed to succeed him as historiographer of France.

Of his editorship of le Mercure, Marmontel has preserved some very amusing reminiscences. In this undertaking, which he considered arduous, he was sometimes assisted by a few friends, of two of whom he speaks nearly in the following terms; but, we hope the subjects are not to be taken as specimens of literary character, even in those licentious

times.

"At a jeweller's, who lived in the Place Dauphine, I often dined with two poets of the old Opéra Comique, whose talent was mirth, and who were never so well in tune as when under a vine at a guingette, (teagardens). Their happiest state was in being intoxicated; but before getting so, they had moments of inspiration which made me think of what Horace says of wine. One, whose name was Galet, passed for a vaurien, (worthless fellow); I never saw him but at table, and I only speak of him from his being connected with Panard, who was a good man, and whom I loved. However, this vaurien was an original worth knowing; he was a grocer of the rue des Lombard, more attentive to the théâtre than to his shop, and was ruined when I knew him. He was dropsical, but did not drink the less, and was as jovial as ever; he cared as little about death as he did about life, and even in poverty, in prison, upon a bed of sickness, and almost at the point of death, he laughed at every thing. After his failure, he took shelter in the Temple, at that time a place of refuge for debtors. When he was near dying, the Vicaire du Temple came to administer the extreme unction to him: Ah! Monsieur L' Abbé,' said Galet, 6 you are come to grease my

"Panard was as careless as his friend, as forgetful of the past, and as negligent of the future. How he should procure food, lodging, or clothing, did not trouble him; that was his friends' concern, and he had good friends. In manners, as in mind, he had a great deal of the simplicity of La Fontaine. Never exterior showed less genius; he, however, had it in his thoughts and expressions. More than once, when at table, have I heard this huge mass entre deux vins, (half drunk) repeat impromptu verses full of ease, elegance, and grace. If at any time in composing the Mercure, I wanted a few verses to fill up a page, I went to see my friend Panard. 'Rummage the wig-box,' said he. In this wigbox were heaped up, péle-mêle, scraps of paper on which were scrawled the verses of this charming poet. Seeing almost all these manuscripts stained with wine, I reproached him with it. 'Never mind that,' said he, 'that is the seal of genius.' He had such a tender affection for wine, that he always spoke of it as the friend of his heart; and, with the glass in his hand, admiring the object of his worship and delight, he was often moved, even to tears. After the death of his friend, Galet, on meeting him one day, I wished to show him the part I took in his affliction. "Ah! Sir,' said he, 'my sorrow is very great! A friend of thirty years, with whom I passed my life! Always together, à la promenade, au spectacle, au cabaret. I have lost him. I shall never sing any more; I shall never drink again with him. He is dead. I am alone in the world. I do not know what will become of me.' In thus bewailing his misfortune, the poor man burst into tears, and nothing could be more natural. 'But,' added he,' you know he died at the Temple! I have been to weep over his grave. Such a grave! Ah! Sir, they have put him under a gutter-he who, since the age of reason, never drank a glass of water.'

MADAGASCAR.*

MANNERS, CUSTOMS, &c. THE population of Madagascar is computed at about four millions; but some writers have stated the number at five millions. Their complexion includes every variety, from dingy white to jet black: olive, however, is the prevalent colour. They are a remarkably handsome and well-formed race of people-the far greater proportion having prominent noses, quick and penetrating eyes, and their whole countenance open and placid; the hair is * Continued from page 39.

generally black, long, and curling. The women are exceedingly pleasing in their manners and appearance. Their shape is slender and delicate, their skin soft, and teeth beautifully white and regular. The majority of them have azure eyes, the pupil of which is brown and brilliant. The married women wear their hair twisted in the form of a bouquet on the top of their heads; the unmarried suffer theirs to flow in ringlets over their shoulders. They are remarkably cleanly and neat in their persons and dress, performing frequent ablutions in the streams with which the country abounds. The common native dress of the men is simply a garment called a lamba, which is fastened round the waist, and reaches to the knees: it is made of silk, cotton, or the bark of a tree, according to the station of the wearer. On public days, the chiefs wear in addition a rich silk robe, thrown over their shoulders, and a profusion of ornaments, as gold chains, bracelets, ear-rings, and other trinkets of pearl, coral, and precious stones. They also, on such occasions, spend much time in oiling and curling their hair, to make it lie close to the head.

There is an amusing story told of a chief, who took a fancy to the wig of an English judge, who happened to be on board an East India ship which touched at the island, and had unfortunately put it on when the chief came to pay the captain a visit. Nothing would serve his turn but the wig, and he threatened to withhold the usual supply, if it was not forthwith delivered up to him. The ingenuity of a sailor (ever fraught with expedients) furnished a succedaneum in a handful of oakum, which he wove, curled, frizzled, and powdered into so good an imitation, that when carried on shore, in due state, it was received with ecstatic delight by the chief, and worn in the presence of a large assembly of his subjects, specially convened on the occasion, who were doubtless highly delighted at the magnificence of his appearance.

The dress of the women consists also of a lamba of silk or cotton, which reaches to the feet; above this is worn a close garment, covering the body from the neck, and confined at the waist by the girdle of the lamba. The women of rank wear also beautiful shawls, called pagnas, made either of silk cotton, or the filaments of the raven palm, divided into exceedingly fine threads, and wove by hand. They wear nothing on their heads, but are very particular in keeping their hair neatly adjusted, and frequently ornamented with flowers and trinkets. The females are treated with great attention and respect by the men, who seem fully sensible of the value of their society, and of domestic enjoyments.

The religion of the Madagassees appears to approach as nearly to that of nature as possi

ble. They believe in one God, whom they call Zanparè, and their worship is exclusively directed to him. The immortality of the soul, the existence of good and evil spirits, and the necessity of sacrifices to propitiate the favour of the Deity, and also to allay the malignity of malevolent spirits, constitute the sum of their theology. Much superstition is mixed up with their system. They have a sort of seraphim, called an Oli, a kind of household lares, which they consider a type of the Deity, and consult upon particular occasions. At the birth of a child, or its circumcision, the death of a relative or chief, seasons of war and peace, in sickness, &c., they offer up sacrifices of a bullock, or sheep, or a fowl, according to the circumstances of the party. The most absurd ceremonies also are practised on these occasions, to ensure the favour of Heaven, or to avert the dangers which threaten them. Circumcision has been practised universally throughout the island from time immemorial: it was by no means introduced by the Mahometans, as the ceremonies and the sacrifices by which it is attended, sufficiently attest. Great respect is paid to the tombs and to the memory of their ancestors; and the former are kept in repair for ages, with religious veneration. belief in a world of spirits leads them frequently to hold supposed converse with those of their deceased relatives; and a recurrence to them seems to influence them powerfully.

Their

The most terrific feature, however, in their ritual remains to be told-this is the practice of infanticide- the greatest of all evils inflicted upon this people by superstition; and which satisfactorily accounts for the fact, why this, one of the largest and most fertile islands in the world, that has never been under the yoke of any other nation, is so thinly inhabited. This horrid crime is systematically, as well as extensively, practised. The months of March and April, the 8th day and last week of every month, and the Wednesday and Friday of every week, being reckoned unfortunate or evil periods, all the children born then are either exposed in the woods to the wild animals, or drowned. Affection sometimes prevails, and induces the parent to save the child; but this is accounted a crime, requiring sacrifices of oxen and fowls, to remove the malignity of the predominant star.

The amusements of the Madagassees consist in the song and dance, to which they are passionately attached; also, throwing the dart, wrestling, hunting, fishing, &c. Hunting wild oxen, buffaloes, and boars, are favourite pursuits with them. When the former are the game, they choose a dark night, and after washing off the smell of the smoke from their skins, they sally out, and having discovered the herd, get to windward of them as quietly as they can, plucking the