a book consists of so much from many writers, that its author should call it "notre livre." The remark applies peculiarly to a volume like the present. The Author gratefully acknowledges his obligations to preceding writers on the antiquities of Windsor, especially to Mr. Ashton, for the valuable architectural information which he has collected on the subject, in his introduction to the "Illustrations of Windsor Castle," by Sir Jeffrey Wyatville. But while the Author has availed himself of what has been already published on the subject of this volume, he is happy in being able to state that his pages are enriched by several curious facts and illustrations, collected from unpublished MSS. to which he has had access. Besides those in the British Museum, he has been permitted to make use of several furnished him by private friends. For these, his acknowledgments are especially due to Edward Jesse, Esq., author of "Gleanings in Natural History," "A Summer's Day at Windsor," &c.; the late Captain Fernyhough, Military Knight; John Secker, Esq., TownClerk of Windsor; and Mr. George Jenner. The poetical fragment at the commencement of the work, is the contribution of a friend. The object of the Author has been to present the history of Windsor in such a form as to interest the general reader, and to meet that taste for antiquarian research and historical associations in connection with remarkable places, so characteristic of the age. He has endeavoured to give some glimpses of the state of society during the successive periods through which his history extends; and if, in doing this, he may sometimes have a little stepped out of the way, yet he trusts he has succeeded in giving an aspect of more general interest to the local scenes and circumstances he has described. Through the whole work he has also attempted to breathe that moral and religious spirit which should pervade not only the graver studies, but even the literary recreations of intellectual and spiritual beings. Windsor : A FRAGMENT. ACROSS the forest-mantled hill the summer sun was gleaming, And dark with Heaven's intensest blue, the river flood was streaming; And there was not a sight or sound of human footstep there. It was but when the faded leaves from that bright summer fell, And the noxious things began to creep from the damp and tangled dell, A lonely horseman slacked his haste along the forest road, And round the summit of the hill full warily he trode; And by his bearing fierce and high, and by his crested helm, Proclaimed that he was Conqueror King of England's blood-stained realm; And on that fair and fertile spot, William the Lion chose To rear a stronghold for his friends-a dungeon for his foes. A little tower there stood at first, above the hill-top peering, And then it greater grew and more, like an oak tree upward rearing; The vassals gathered round the spot in feudal domination, And cleared away the forest trees for each man's homestead station: Soon Windsor was the Conqueror's pride, his favourite domain; # Proudly Plantagenet's standard was waving, A hundred good chargers were ranged in their stalls; Right welcome they knew by the feast-stirring sound: The drawbridge was lithe on its hinges that day, As high from his barbican spied he, But Windsor's courts were merrier yet,- Bravely the champions did their part, And mirth stole into the weariest heart; For the silvery laugh and the beautiful eyes, And the brilliant hue of the draperies. |