MR. DOWMNG'S LETTERS FROM ENGLAND. 



119 



peted with the finest turf, dotted with groups 

 of aged trees and shrubs, and surrounded on 

 all sides by the castle walls. This is the inner 

 court-yard of the castle. Around it, forming 

 four sides, are grouped in the most picturesque 

 and majestic manner, the varied forms and 

 outlines of the vast pile, partly hidden by the 

 rich drapery of ivy and old mossy trees. On 

 the most sheltered side of the circular walk 

 which surrounds this court-yard, among many 

 fine evergreens, I noticed two giant Arbutuses 

 (a shrub which I have vainly attempted to 

 acclimatize in the northern States,) more than 

 thirty feet high, with trunks a couple of feet 

 in diameter, the growth of more than 200 

 years. 



On the south side of this court lies the 

 principal mass of the castle, affording an un- 

 broken suite of rooms 333 long. At the north- 

 east, Cassar's tower, built in Saxon times, — 

 the oldest part of the whole edifice, whose ex- 

 act date is unknown — which rises dark, gloomy 

 and venerable, above all the rest ; while at 

 the south-east stands the tower built by the 

 great Warwick — broader and more massive, 

 and partly hidden by huge chestnuts. The 

 other sides are not inhabited, but still remain 

 as originally built, — a vast mass of walls with 

 embattled parapets broken by towers with 

 loopholes and positions for defence — but with 

 their sternness and severity broken by the 

 tender drapery of vines and shrubs, and the 

 luxuriant beauty of the richest verdure. 



In the centre of the south side of this noble 

 court-yard, you enter the castle by a few 

 steps. Passing through the entrance hall, you 

 reach the great hall, vast, baronial and mag- 

 nificent — the floor paved with marble — and 

 the roof carved in oak. Along the sides, 

 which are pannelled in dark cedar, are hung 

 the armor and the weapons of every age since 

 the first erection of the castle. I was shown 

 the leather shirt, with its blood-stains black- 

 enpf" bv time, worn by an ancestor of the 



present carl, who was slain at the battle of 

 Litchfield, and many other curious and pow- 

 erful weapons used by the great warriors of 

 the family through a course of centuries. 



On either side of this hall, to the right and 

 left, in a straight line, extend the continuous 

 suite of apartments. The first on the right 

 is the anti-drawing-room, the walls crimson 

 and gold ; next, the cedar drawing-room — the 

 walls richly wainscoted with wood of the ce- 

 dar of Lebanon ; third, the great drawing- 

 room, finely proportioned and quite perfect in 

 tone — its walls delicate apple-green, relieved 

 by a little pure white, and enriched with gild- 

 ing ; next. Queen Anne's state bedroom, with 

 a superb state bed presented to the then Earl 

 of Warwick, by that queen, being antique, 

 with tapestry, and decorated with a fine full 

 length picture of Queen Anne ; and beyond 

 this a cabinet filled with the choicest speci- 

 mens of ancient Venetian art and workman- 

 ship. Behind the hall is the chapel, and on 

 the left the suite is continued in tha same 

 manner as on the right. Of course a good 

 deal of the furniture has been removed from 

 time to time, and large portions of the interi- 

 or have been restored by the present earl. 

 But this has been done with such admirable 

 taste that there is nothing which disturbs the 

 unity of the whole. The furniture is all of 

 dark wood, old cabinets richly inlaid with 

 brass, old carved oaken couches, or those rich 

 mosaic tables which were brought to England 

 in the palmy days of the Italian states. 

 Everything looks old, genuine and original. 

 The apartments were hung with very choice 

 pictures by Van Dyck, Titia and Rubens — 

 among which I noticed a magnificent head 

 of Cromwell, and another of Queen Mary, 

 that riveted my attention — the former by its 

 expression of the powerful self-centered soul, 

 and the latter by the crushed and broken- 

 hearted pensiveness of the countenance — for 

 it was Mary at 40, just before her death — 



