BARNARD CASTLE. BARNARD castle, in the county of Durham, was founded about A.D. 1178 by Barnard, son of Guido Baliol, who came into England at the Conquest, and from whom it derives its name. It is situated on a bank "Where Tees, full many a fathom low, For pebbly bank nor saud-bed here, SCOTT. It was exempt from the jurisdiction of the palatinate for five successions. During the reign of king John, Hugh Baliol and Philip de Ulcotes were appointed wardens of the boundaries of the bishopric, against the inroads of the Scots. In August, 1216, Alexander of Scotland entered England as an ally of Louis of France, to whom VOL. XVIII. the pope had granted John's kingdom. He ravaged Cumberland with a powerful army, and reconnoitred Baliol's strong-hold. Whilst Alexander and his attendants were surveying the rocky strength of the fortress, a man on the battlements discharged a shaft from a cross-bow, which "strake Eustace Vesey (Alexander's brotherin-law) on the forehead with such might that he fell dead to the ground." The Scots immediately retired. John Baliol married Devorguilla, daughter of Allen, earl of Galloway, by his wife Margaret, eldest daughter of David, earl of Huntingdon, brother of William, king of Scotland. In 1278, John, his son, succeeded at an early age to the vast possessions of his family. From his mother he inherited Devorgill, in Scotland, whence "he derived the very dubious blessing of the nearest claim in blood to the crown of Scotland, after the decease of the maid of Norway." Edward I. of England decided his title was I pronounced superior to those of Bruce and Hastings. He was crowned king of Scotland A.D. 1292, and soon after did homage to Edward for his crown. the first who had previously borne the title of Princess of Wales" (Miss Strickland's " "English Queens"). poison. According to Miss Strickland, however, she died of decline; the result of a broken heart. She was interred near the altar in Westminster abbey, A.D. 1485. "No memorial marks the On the forfeiture of Baliol's English estates, in spot where the hapless Anne, of Warwick, found 1296, Anthony Beke, bishop of Durham, seized rest from as much sorrow as could have been Barnard castle and its dependencies, in right of his crowded into the brief space of thirty-one years. royal purchase. The castle and honour of Bar-She was the last of our Plantagenet queens, and nard were, however, seized by the king, and granted to Guy Beauchamp, earl of Warwick. Some of the prelates who succeeded Beke endeavoured to recover the estate, but to no purpose. In the first year of Edward III. parliament acknowledged the claims of the see to be just; and writs, commanding restitution, were issued. These, however, and repeated orders to deliver up possession, were never obeyed; and, "for five descents, the Beauchamps and their successors, the Nevils of Warwick, held, with a slight interruption, possession of Barnard castle, which never again became subject to the see Richard, previous to his obtaining the throne, frequently resided at Barnard castle. His badge, the boar, is still to be seen on the walls. At the early age of seventeen he was appointed warden of the Northern Marches. In A.D. 1477, Richard obtained a licence to found a college in the castle, for a dean and twelve secular priests, ten clerks, and six choristers; but the plan was never carried into execution. On the death of Richard, Barnard castle fell into the possession of Henry VII.; but how long it remained in the possession of the crown is not known. It would seem to have been some time vested in Nevill, earl of Westmoreland, before the forfeiture of the last earl, A.D. 1569, during the disturbances in the north, which brought the earl of Northumberland to the scaffold, and rendered Westmoreland a miserable exile in a foreign land. The great earl of Warwick, who fell in Barnetfield, on Easter-day, 1471-by which Edward IV. was established on the throne-left two daughters: Isabel, who married George, duke of Clarence; and Anne, wife of Richard III. On the attainder of Clarence, Richard obtained undivided possession of the castle. Anne, who most reluctantly married Richard, was the widow of Edward, prince of Wales, son of Henry VI., in whose murder at The accession of Elizabeth to the throne, and Tewkesbury, at the instigation of Edward IV., the consequent overthrow of popery, produced in Gloucester had some sharet. Her only son having the minds of many, as might most naturally have died, she was regarded as an obstacle to the settle-been expected, a decided opposition to her government of Richard's fortune; and, according to Hume, he was believed to have carried her off by "The hand-to-hand melée of the fight prevailed on and about the spot where the obelisk has been erected. Edward's reserve now advanced, and turned the tide of battle in his favour; Warwick's forces were irretrievably routed, hewn down by bills, retreated to a neighbouring thicket, doubtless Hadleigh wood, speared by the mounted men-at-arms, and dispersed. Warwick which still remains wild and luxuriant, a lingering relic of the great royal hunting-ground, Enfield Chase. There he was assailed by some of Edward's men, slain, stripped of his coatarmour, and left naked on the soil. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept. Is nothing left him but his body's length. Why what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust! ment; and this was especially the case in the north; and when, in process of time, it was perceived that there was no probability of any compromise between the queen and the bishop of Rome, many were most anxious to dethrone her, and substitute Mary, queen of Scots, in her place. The duke of Norfolk was committed to the Tower, upon suspicion that he wished to espouse Mary; and this, with other circumstances, led to the rising in the north, in which the earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland took such a decided part. These two chiefs met at Brancepeth, the seat of the latter, and there declared to their followers that all the English nobility were resolved to restore the Romish religion, and that they did thus put themselves in arms to prevent upstarts from trampling on the old nobility, and so ap Thus does Shakspeare descant on the fall of this most brave and peared in open rebellion" (Dugdale). Entering powerful English peer. "His brother, Montacute, fell early in the fight, when the fatal error occasioned by the similarity of badges took place. It is not probable that he was killed in the act of deserting to the enemy, as one authority has stated. Shakspeare says, in ac cordance most probably with the fact Montague hath breath'd his last, And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick.' The dead corpses of the brothers were conveyed to London, exposed to public view in St. Paul's cathedral, and then conveyed for interment at Bisham priory, in Berkshire. "The number of slain in this battle was considerable, but it is very variably stated by our historians. Fabyan says that they amounted to upwards of 1,500; Hall, 10,000; Stowe, 4,000. It appears probable that, in the number of 10,000, Hall includes the wounded, as well as the killed; and even then it would be extremely large, for the aggregate of the combatants did not exceed perhaps 30,000. On this point, however, much uncertainty prevails. The force of Edward has been estimated only at 9,000 men, while that of Warwick has been raised to 30,000: such an account, of course, magnified the victor's skill and prowess" (Gentleman's Mag., Sept., 1844). + Miss Halsted maintains that this was a marriage resulting from mutual affection; for, that Richard had been brought up by the earl (" Richard III. as Duke of Gloucester;" by Caroline A. Halsted, 2 vols., 8vo). pro the cathedral, at Durham, they tore the bibles and Sadler great numbers, but yet confused, without order, armour, or weapon." Sir George Bowes, of Sheatlam, who had great possessions in the neighbourhood, seized and garrisoned Barnard castle against the rebellious earls; who had rested at Raby, and taken the port of Hartlepool, for the purpose of receiving their foreign allies, or of themselves escaping by sea, should their insurrection prove adverse. "Then sir George Bowes he straightway rose "That baron he to his castle fled To Barnard castle then fled hee- The erles have wonne them presentlie." Sir George defended the castle against the main body of the insurgents for eleven days; and then surrendered, for want of provisions, on honourable terms. The delay enabled Sussex to advance; by whom the insurrection was speedily quelled; and, for this, sir George obtained the demesnes under a lease. That the pope was the urging instrument in the insurrection, there can be no doubt. He transmitted money to assist Mary against her protestant subjects, and dispatched his secret priestly envoy to England in 1569, to declare privately from him, to certain of the nobility, that, as a heretic, Elizahad forfeited all claim to her crown, and that they should obey her no longer. "What the penury or prudence of Elizabeth had retained, the prodigality of James lavished on a favourite; and, in 161-, the fee of the castle and manor were granted to Robert Carr, viscount Rochester, afterwards earl of Somerset; on whose disgrace and condemnation to death the lordship was resumed by the crown, and, soon after, with Brancepeth and the other forfeited estates, was settled for the maintenance of Charles, prince of Wales, by demise, for ninetynine years, to sir Francis Bacon and others, with power to grant leases for twenty-seven years, or three lives. In 16, the surviving grantees assigned the unexpired residue of the demesne lands of Barnard castle, &c., to sir John Henry Vane, knt. In 1640, sir Henry Vane had a grant from the crown, of various privileges annexed to his honour or lordship of Raby and Barnard castle, under which the lordship is still vested in the duke of Cleveland, earl of Darlington." The castle was unroofed and dismantled A.D. 1630. The remains of the castle cover an extent of ground equal to about six acres and three quarters. The ruins do not convey an adequate idea of its original strength. It was inclosed from the town by a strong and high wall; with a gateway from the present market-place, and another to the north. The area, entered by the former, does not appear to have had communication with the chief strong-holds, but probably contained the chapel. It is separated from the interior buildings by a deep fosse, which surrounds the whole fortress. This area is fenced with a high wall, along the edge of the 'rocks. There does not appear in it bastion or turret. To the north the wall has a more fortified appearance. The gateway to the north, or the Flatts, opens from a large area to a | Roman road, which communicated with the ford that gave name to the village on the Yorkshire banks of the river, called Street-ford, now corrupted to Stratford; and, in the other direction, led towards Street-le-ham and Staindrop. This area was anciently used to receive the cattle of the adjoining country in time of invasion. The gateway lastmentioned is defended by a half-round tower; and the broken walls show some appearance of outworks. At a turn of the wall, towards the south, there was a tower, which, by its projection, flanked the wall towards the gate. Over the fosse was a drawbridge to the gate. Here are the remains of some edifices; one, called Brackenbury's tower, having deep vaults, now lying open. The chief strong-holds of this fortress stand on more elevated ground, surrounded by a dry ditch, or covered way, with small gateways through the cross or intersecting walls, terminated on one hand by a sallyport that commanded the bridge to the west, and another to the north. On each side of the sallyport to the bridge, within the gate, was a semicircular demi-bastion, loaded with earth to the top; very strong, and built chiefly of blue flints: the greatest part of one of the bastions still stands; the other has long been in ruins. Here are some of the most ancient parts of the castle. On the west side of the area were the principal lodgings, in some places six stories high: the state rooms stood here. Two large, pointed windows, towards the river, seem most modern, together with a bow window, hung on corbels, in the upper ceilings of which is the figure of a boar passant-the badge of Richard-relieved, and in good preservation. Adjoining these apartments is a circular tower, of excellent masonry, having a vault, the roof of which is plain. This vault is thirty feet in diameter, the stairs conducting to the upper apartments being channelled in the wall. In a large reservoir cut in swampy ground, called the Ever, water was collected, and conveyed in pipes to the garrison and castle, inclosed within the walls of the outer areas, in times of danger (See Hutchinson's "History of Durham"). The church, or rather chapel of Barnard castle for it is situated in the parish of Gainsforddoes not present many objects worthy of notice. The view from Barnard castle commands the rich and magnificent valley of Tees. Immediately adjacent to the river the banks are very thickly wooded; at a little distance they are more open and cultivated; but, being interspersed with hedge-rows and with isolated trees of great size and age, they still retain the richness of woodland scenery. The river itself flows in a deep trench of solid rock, chiefly limestone and marble. The finest view of its romantic course is from a handsome, modern bridge built over the Tees by the late Mr. Morrit, of Rokeby. In Leland's time the marble quarries seem to have been of some value. "Hard under the cliff, by Egliston, is found, on each side of Tees, very fair marble, wont to be taken up both by marblers of Barnard castle and of Egliston, and partly to have been wrought by them and partly sold unwrought to others" (Itinerary, Oxford, 1768, 8vo, p. 88). The ruins of Egliston abbey, or priory-for Tanner calls it the former, and Leland the latterare beautifully situated upon the angle formed by a little dell, called Thorsgill, at its junction with the Tees. A good part of the religious house is still in some degree habitable; but the church is in ruins. Egliston is dedicated to St. Mary and St. John the Baptist, and is supposed to have been founded by Ralph de Multon, about the end of the reign of Henry II. Here were formerly the tombs of the families of Rokeby, Bowes, and Fitzhugh (Note to Rokeby). UNFULFILLED PROPHECY. No. I. BY THE REV. RICHARD LYNCH COTTON, D.D., neither left any trace of it. Erroneous interpreters, like false prophets, are confuted when the events which they anticipated fail to come to pass at the time of their accomplishment pointed out by them. Shall we, then, fall into similar errors, and with them equally be put to shame? The natural answer is, No, we will not intrude into that which we cannot understand. And the very fact of the obscurity of so great a proportion of prophecy yet unaccomplished appears to tell us that it is the purpose of God that we should not comprehend it. He might have made every vision so plain that he that runs might read it. Had he intended to convey the intent of these prophecies to the mind of men, would he not have clothed them in such language as would have been clearly apprehended by the human understanding? Shall the omniscient God have an Provost of Worcester College, Oxford. "Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of object in view, and adopt ineffectual methods of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein : for the time is at hand."-REV. 1. 3. EXTREME views and extravagant conduct have inflicted upon religion many grievous wounds, have brought dishonour upon her system of doctrine and practice, have harassed and perplexed her devoted subjects, have furnished cavilling pleas for the spirit of scepticism and infidelity, and have supplied the indolent and indifferent with an excuse for their lukewarm inaction. Excess in one direction is the sure precursor of excess in its contrary. And many, observing the evils attendant upon both extremes, lull themselves into an imaginary security in their freedom from excess on either side; while perhaps culpable indifference, represented in holy scripture as so abominable in the sight of the Lord, is the term which really characterizes their conduct, instead of sound discretion or wise moderation. The treatment of unfulfilled prophecy is a remarkable, but melancholy, exemplification of these positions. There is, perhaps, no branch of divine truth that has suffered more from the absurd imaginations of men than this. And, while many have revelled in their fanciful interpretations of the yet prospective predictions of the sacred volume, many more allow themselves to sleep in an entire neglect of them, while they feel a deceptive pleasure in their freedom from such errors. Hence arises a great and important question: What is the right, the legitimate and healthful mode of treating unfulfilled prophecy? To suggest an answer to this question in the first place, and in the second to offer some practical application of it, is the object of this paper, upon which I pray me that God's blessing may descend. The countless errors into which so many have fallen in their endeavours to develop the intent of the prophecies in question appear to lie before us like the body of Asahel, warning us to stand still, and not persevere in the prosecution of such pursuits. How many theories of interpreters have been unequivocally and incontestibly overthrown by time! They elicited their view of the purport of the prediction under their hand: they gloried in it: they boasted of it: they unhesitatingly confided in it: they despised, they condemned those who would not admit it. But the time pointed out by their interpretation came, and passed on, and brought with it no such events as had been anticipated, accomplishing it? The obscure language, then, in which the dark visions of these prophecies are couched, appears to intimate to us that the divine Author of them did not intend to impart their meaning to man. Wherefore, it may seem presumptuous to seek in them that knowledge of things to come which it has pleased God to withhold from us. On the other hand, we are strongly and divinely urged to the study of the Apocalypse, the chief treasure-house of unfulfilled prophecy : "Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein; for the time is at hand." This passage stands at the threshold of this depository of divine oracles, inviting us to enter and thoroughly examine it. And whosoever listens to and complies with the invitation, having completed his survey, finds himself at his egress from it admonished to maintain a wakeful and influential remembrance of all that he had seen there, and encouraged to re-enter it, and investigate it again with increased attention, and more close and diligent inspection: "Behold, I come quickly: blessed is he that keepeth the sayings of the prophecy of this book." Thus does this holy book appear to be guarded at either end from neglectful treatment. Both admonishing passages are sentences of great strength, enforcing their injunction both by power of language and intimation of consequences. The verb in the original used in both is a forcible and comprehensive expression, including watchfulness, and retention, and consequent action. And the expressions, "the time is at hand," in the one, and "behold, I come quickly," in the other, enforce the exhortation imparted in the passage with the most constraining urgency of an overwhelming motive. The admonition is given. The speedy approach of the Lord who gives it in the capacity of Judge is announced. The eternal results of his judgment stand, therefore, as the awful sanction of the admonition, urging obedience to it by the most stupendous consequences. Yet it appears to be a part of the very constitution of the natural man to refuse attention to such prophetic warnings. Such has been the case in parallel instances in ancient times; and such will be the case in the last and greatest instance: "For as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, and knew not until the flood came, and took them all away, so shall also the coming of the Son of man be" (Matt. xxiv. 38, 39). So it was in the typical coming of the Son of man; and so we may expect it will be in its great and awful antitype at the end of this world. In both the former instances, notwithstanding the prophetic warning so amply given, the generations of their respective ages had so entirely slighted it, that the judgment fell upon them as unexpectedly as if it had never been predicted. And we may anticipate that similar neglect of prophecy will subject the last generation of this world to a judgment parallel in its relative character, but infinitely more terrible in its nature and vast in its extent: "For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. For when they shall say, Peace and safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape" (1 Thess. v. 2, 3). Here, then, is a dilemma. What is its solution? It is found, I apprehend, in the line of duty resulting from its antagonist forces combined. Let it be briefly represented. The inferred duty is to study year by year continually the volume of prophecy, fulfilled and unfulfilled, with the rest of holy scripture; to fix our eye upon those portions of prophecy which are plainly intelligible and palpably unaccomplished, as eminent beacons for the direction of our path and practice; and to permit the many things hard to be understood to remain laid up in our memory, though dark objects to our mind. On every recurrence to the study of these prophecies, we may dwell upon them with unmitigated thoughtfulness, and enter as far into the intent of them as our reason, with all its mercifully-granted aids, will clearly and safely guide us. And to this we must add a life of watchfulness and observation, contemplating the prominent features of the current phenomena of the church and of the world. I conceive that the student of prophecy, who pursues this course, will be secured from the maze of errors to which a rash interpretation of the detail of unaccomplished prophecy would expose him, while he pays due obedience to the solemn injunctions of attention to it found in the sacred volume itself, and escapes the danger to which the neglect of it would subject him. And, should the days of his life be appointed in times wherein the accomplishment of any portion of the prophecies is taking place, he might hope to be enabled to recognise the passing events as their fulfilment, and thence in all circumstances draw strength to his faith, consolation, hope, guidance, and support. A system of prophecy thus palpable in certain prominent points, and obscure in its intermediate detail, appears to have been consistently maintained from the beginning of the world to the close of the prophetic revelation. A Saviour, the gift and testimony of God's love for us, the offspring and the medium of his mercy, stood in promise and prophecy before man from the fatal day of his fall, exciting and encouraging him to obedience in hope and love. Presented to the view of the race of Abraham, particularly, stood the bondage in and redemption | from Egypt, the inheritance of Canaan, the captivities, the return of Judah, the perpetuation of the ruling power in that tribe to the advent of the great Messiah, the appalling occurrences of the siege and destruction of Jerusalem, the dispersion and the final restoration and salvation of the Jews. These eminent points of prophecy stood forward in high relief, discharging their office, as it respectively belonged to them, of encouragement or of warning, inviting them to piety and holiness, and repelling them from idolatry and sin. Those pious Israelities, who kept their eyes fixed upon these bright and lucid spots in the dark area of prophecy, must have derived from them invaluable guidance for the direction of their faith and practice, though a vast body of predictions in detail lay between them and those grand objects in the gloom of an unintelligible obscurity. Great was the loss of those who neglected the due contemplation of those sure words of prophecy which stood as "lights shining in a dark place, till the day dawned, and the day-spring from on high visited" mankind. And fatal were the errors of those who indulged themselves in partial and fanciful views of those portions of prophecy which lay beyond the sphere of their understanding. Had they all, ever looking stedfastly upon the points clearly revealed for guidance, as they invited them in the shape of promise or repelled them as warnings, continued to study with a thoughtful and unprejudiced mind the whole body of prophecy, not presuming to make fanciful interpretations of them which could not be safely relied upon, but awaiting God's time for their elucidation, then would they have been prepared to recognise the fulfilment of the predictions as they occurred in their appointed place. One may imagine a devout Israelite, familiar with the prophetic writings of Isaiah, but yet far from a full apprehension of their intent, standing by the Baptist when he said: "I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord, as said the prophet Esaias" (John i. 23). One may reasonably suppose that, upon hearing this public announcement from John that he was fulfilling that prophecy in preparing the way for the great Lord whom they were at that time expecting, he would find a bright light shed over that portion of sacred writ to which he alluded, and an apprehension of it entering his mind which he had never before experienced. With this key to the interpretation of the prophet's language, one may imagine him hastening to his home, opening the book of Isaiah, and, in a thoughtful study of the passage cited by the Baptist, with the portions of the book which are connected with it, finding rays of light proceeding from it which dispelled the obscurity that previously lay over those sacred writings. "Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people" (Isa. xl. 1), now looked to the consolation of Israel in the advent of the Messiah. "O, Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; O, Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength: lift it up, be not afraid: say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God" (Isa. xl. 9), this language conveyed to him the substance of the angelic promulgation: "Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be unto all people. For unto you is born |