it must have been a poor and mean one, and that we must look to the Norman era for its real foundation. It can now be only just celebrating the eighth century of its existence; but still, as Mr. Dixon remarks,—

"Set against the Tower of London-with its eight hundred years of historic life-all other palaces and prisons appear like things of an hour. The oldest bit of palace in Europe, that of the west front of the Burg in Vienna, is of the time of Henry III. The Kremlin in Moscow, the Doge's Palazzo in Venice, are of the Fourteenth century. The Seraglio in Stamboul was built by Mohammed II. The oldest part of the Vatican was commenced by Borgia, whose name it bears. The old Louvre was commenced in the reign of Henry VIII; the Tuileries in that of Elizabeth. In the time of our civil war Versailles was yet a swamp. Sans Souci and the Escurial belong to the Eighteenth century. The Serail of Jerusalem is a Turkish edifice. The palaces of Athens, of Cairo, of Tehran, are all of modern date. Neither can the prisons which remain in fact as well as in history and drama-with the one exception of St. Angelo, in Rome-compare against the Tower. The Bastile is gone; the Bargello has become a museum; the Piombi are removed from the Doge's roof. Vincennes, Spandau, Spilberg, Magdeburg, are all modern in comparison with a jail from which Ralph Flambard escaped so long ago as the year 1100, the date of the First Crusade."

No doubt William the Conqueror would not allow very much time to slip by after winning the battle of Hastings, before taking means to secure and command the port and city of London; and to Gundulph, a Benedictine monk, the pupil of Lanfranc and friend of Anselm, and afterwards Bishop of Rochester, London owes the commencement of that Tower which was destined to be at once its glory and (if we follow Gray) its "ancient shame." Those who have visited Rochester will not have been slow to notice the sisterly likeness, both in plan and detail, between the great Keep which that prelate raised on the banks of the Medway and that which stands on the northern bank of the Thames below London Bridge.

The great Norman Keep, now commonly called the White Tower, formed a main part of the royal palace from the reign of Henry I., or at all events from that of Stephen down to the age of the Tudors; so that the story of the White Tower is in some sort that of English society, as well as of our sovereigns. "Here," says Mr. Dixon, "were kept the royal wardrobe and the royal jewels; hither came with their goodly wares the tiremen, the goldsmiths, the chasers and embroiderers from Flanders, Italy, and Almaigne. Close by were the Mint,

queting Hall: so that art and trade, science and manners, literature and law, sport and politics, here found themselves equally at home." Henry III. spent much of his time in the Tower, and much of his wealth in adding to its strength and beauty; his name is associated

the lions' dens, the old archery grounds, the Court of King's Bench, the Court of Common Pleas, the Queen's Gardens, and the Royal Ban

with the "Water Gate," the "Lantern," and the "Cradle Tower;" he adorned St. John's Chapel in it with frescoes, and he built a private chapel on a smaller scale for himself. Edward I., too, in his day, was a great benefactor to the Tower; and under his auspices the adjoining church of St. Peter's was rebuilt and enlarged. During the next two centuries, as being one of the strongest, if not the strongest edifice in the south of England, the Tower became by turns "the magnificent home or the miserable jail" of nearly all our princes. Here Richard II. held his court, and gave up his crown. Here Henry VI. was murdered; here the Duke of Clarence was drowned in wine; here King Edward V. and the Duke of York were slain by command of Richard. Here Margaret of Salisbury suffered her tragic fate. Here, too, at a later date, happened other occurrences equally sad and equally memorable: but these we must not anticipate.

Our readers must not forget that the Tower was (and still is) divided into two main parts, called here, as they are at Windsor, the "inner" and "outer" wards. The Inner Ward, or royal quarter, of which Gundulph was the planner, formed the original fortress, and still is the larger part of the entire design. The Outer Ward, which is mostly of later date, not older than the reign of Henry III., was open to the common people; it extended between the White Tower and the river, including in its circuit the Traitors' Gate, and the Great Hall close by, which was used for the sittings of the Court of Common Pleas-the Court of King's Bench being held in the royal quarters. These are facts which Mr. Dixon has been at considerable pains to establish, and which he has been the first to establish. On the border land of these two Wards stood the Hall Tower, the same which we have already mentioned as that in which Henry III. built his private chapel, and in which he was murdered by the Duke of Gloucester. After Henry's death, this tower, Mr. Dixon tells us, was used as a paper office, and was known for ages afterwards as the "Record Tower."

Facing the river, to the south of the White Tower, was the wharf, which even 700 years ago served as a place of recreation as well as traffic. It appears, indeed, to have been a fashionable promenade on high days and holidays, and no doubt attracted the citizens of London, their wives, daughters, sons, and apprentices, on Sunday afternoons. At the time of which we speak, Mr. Dixon observes,

"Men who loved sights were pretty sure to find something worth seeing at either the Queen's Stairs or the Traitors' Gate. All personages who came to the Tower in honour were landed at the Queen's Stairs; all coming in disgrace were pushed through the Traitors'

Gate. Now a royal barge, with a queen on board, was going forth. in her bravery of gold and pennons; now a lieutenant's boat, returning with a culprit in the stern, and a headsman standing at his side, holding in his hand the fatal axe."

We have not time or space at our command to follow Mr. Dixon through the many successive scenes which he brings before us in the thirty-odd chapters of his work. We are, however, especially delighted with his sketches of "The Good Lord Cobham," "The King and Cardinal Fisher," "The Nine Days Queen" (Lady Jane Grey), "The Pilgrimage of Grace," "The Murder of Northumberland,” and “ Princess Margaret." Nearly all the incidents involved in these chapters, the very titles of which tell their own tales, are most graphically and tersely represented, so as to present the effects of a succession of photographic interiors. Nor is the chapter which he devotes to "Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley," at all inferior in point of interest; and we must claim for Mr. Dixon the credit of having been the first to prove that Cranmer, during his imprisonment here, was lodged in the Gatehouse, which then was known as the Garden Tower, but now as the Bloody Tower. The cold and the misery of that place of confinement broke Cranmer's spirit, no doubt; so that, to use Mr. Dixon's words, "the priest who at Lambeth had been little less than a hero, became, when removed to Oxford, little better than a craven."

Men from the

Axe carried

before Peers going to Trial

wharf whence at Westminster. Raleigh was

Sir Walter Raleigh is the last occupant of the Tower to whom Mr. Dixon introduces us. He thus speaks of him:-" Though Raleigh was now lodged in the Tower, with three poor servants, living on 57. a week for food and fire, the men in office considered him far too strong. His fame was rising, instead of falling. Great ladies from the court cast wistful glances at his room. streets and ships came crowding to the they could see him walking on the wall. a sight to see, not only for his fame and name, but for his picturesque and dazzling figure. Fifty-one years old; tall, tawny, splendid; with the bronze of tropical suns on his leonine cheek, a bushy beard, a round moustache, and a ripple of curly hair, which his man Peter took an hour to dress. Appareled as became such a figure in scarf and band of the richest colour and costliest stuff, in cap and plume worth a ransom, in jacket powdered with gems; his whole attire, from cap

to shoe-strings, blazing with rubies, emeralds, and pearls; he was allowed to be one of the handsomest men alive. The council got alarmed at the crowds who came down to see him. Harvey was thought too careless; and a strict gaoler was appointed to abridge the very few liberties which Raleigh then enjoyed."

It is quite possible that Mr. Dixon may be contemplating another

volume, which shall treat of those State prisoners who during the last three centuries have made the walls of the Tower famousthe noble sinners against the tyranny of the House of Stuart, and the scarcely less noble adherents of the Stuart cause in its decline and fall-those Jacobite lords and Highland soldiers, who having drawn their swords in the cause of Prince Jamie or Bonny Prince Charlie, here met their fate like Christians and brave men, and shed their blood on Tower Hill-the Derwentwaters, the Balmerinos, and the Lovats. Mr. Dixon's book has no illustrations,