Windsor Forest, with its magnificent old oaks and its richly variegated scenery, of "upland, lawn and stream," has afforded a fruitful theme for the pens of Gray and the poet of "The Seasons;" and Pope, it will be remembered, has felicitously pictured forth its changeful beauties. As far back as the days of the Saxons we have records of palatial residence at Old Windsor, or as its name then was, Windleshora, so called from the windings of the Thames in its vicinity. William the Norman built some portions of the Castle, which, until the time of Richard I., seems ever to have been the peaceful abode of royalty. During the civil wars, of which Windsor was a principal scene, the Castle became the most important military establishment in the kingdom. The sanguinary struggles connected with the signing of Magna Charta, are familiar to the reader. The birth of Edward III., which took place at Windsor, forms another epoch in its history—that prince having reconstructed the greater part of the Castle, and very largely extended it. William of Wykeham was the architect, with the liberal salary of a shilling a day. It is said he and six hundred workmen employed on the building, at the rate of one penny a day. It was here Richard II. heard the appeal of high treason, brought by the Duke of Lancaster against Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, which resulted in the former becoming Henry IV. It was here the Earl of Surrey, imprisoned for the high crime of eating flesh in Lent, beguiled his solitude, with his muse; and here was the last prison of that unfortunate monarch, Charles I. In Windsor Castle also resided the haughty Elizabeth; and along its terrace might have been seen in the days of the Commonwealth the stern figure of the lion-hearted Cromwell. It was the residence of Henry VIII., and the prison of James I. of Scotland. It is indebted for most of its modern splendor, to the luxurious taste and prodigal expenditure of George IV., who obtained from the House of Commons the sum of £300,000 for the purpose. The suites of royal apartments at present in use by the Queen are superb in the extreme, especially the state drawing rooms, in which are nine pictures by Zuccarelli; and St. George's Hall—a vast apartment in which the state banquets are given.
The long walk, extending about three miles in a direct line to the Palace, presents the finest vista of its kind in the world. It extends from the grand entrance of the Castle, to the top of a commanding hill in the Great Park, which affords a panoramic view of enchanting beauty, including many places memorable in history. On the right is the Thames, seen beyond Charter Island, and the plain of Runnymede, where the Barons extorted Magna Charta, whilst in the hazy distance are the rising eminences of Harrow and Hampstead. On the summit of this hill stands the equestrian statue of George III. Near the avenue called Queen Elizabeth's Walk, tradition still points out a withered tree as the identical oak of "Herne the Hunter," who, as the tale goes,
"Sometimes a keeper here in Windsor Forest,
Doth all the winter time, at still midnight,
Walk round the oak, with great ragged horns."
[We derive this article from an interesting and beautifully illustrated volume of "Memories of the Great Metropolis," by Frederic Saunders, to be issued in a few days by one of our leading publishers. We shall notice it again.]
MR. GERARD, THE LION KILLER,
AND M. LE BARON MUNCHAUSEN, WHO BEAT HIM.
Jules Gerard is an officer in the famous army of Africa, who has a passion for lion killing. He is the Gordon Cumming of France. He follows lions alone; hunts them like sheep, for miles; sleeps near them; and patiently awaits their coming. Last year we published (article "Wild Sports in Algeria," International, vol. ii. p. 121,) an account of one of his exploits, to which he now refers us. His last adventure is sufficiently exciting, and incredibly daring. It is told in a letter to a friend, and published in the Journal des Chasseurs:—
"My dear Léon,—In my narrative of the month of August, 1850, I spoke of a large old lion which I had not been able to fall in with, and of whose sex and age I had formed a notion from his roarings. On the return of the expeditionary column from Kabylia, I asked permission from General St. Armand to go and explore the fine lairs situated on the northern declivity of Mount Aures, in the environs of Klenchela, where I had left my animal. Instead of a furlough, I received a mission for that country, and accordingly had during two months to shut my ears against the daily reports that were brought to me by the Arabs of the misdeeds of the solitary. In the beginning of September, when my mission was terminated, I proceeded to pitch my tent in the midst of the district haunted by the lion, and set about my investigations round about the douars to which he paid the most frequent visits. In this manner I spent many a night beneath the open sky, without any satisfactory result, when, on the 15th, in the morning, after a heavy rain which had lasted till midnight, some natives, who had explored the cover, came and informed me that the lion was ensconced within half a league of my tent. I set out at three o'clock, taking with me an Arab to hold my horse, another carrying my arms, and a third in charge of a goat most decidedly unconscious of the important part it was about to perform. Having alighted at the skirt of the wood, I directed myself towards a glade situated in the midst of the haunt, where I found a shrub to which I could tie the goat, and a tuft or two to sit upon. The Arabs went and crouched down beneath the cover, at a distance of about 100 paces. I had been there about a quarter of an hour, the goat meanwhile bleating with all its might, when a covey of partridges got up behind me, uttering their usual cry when surprised. I looked about me in every direction, but could see nothing. Meanwhile the goat had ceased crying, and its eyes were intently fixed at me. She made an attempt to break away from the fastening, and then began trembling in all her limbs. At these symptoms of fright I again turned round, and perceived behind me, about fifteen paces off, the lion stretched out at the foot of a juniper-tree, through the branches of which he was surveying us and making wry faces. In the position I was in, it was impossible for me to fire without facing about. I tried to fire from the left shoulder but felt awkward. In turning gently round without rising, I was in a favorable position, and just as I was levelling my piece the lion stood up and began to show me all his teeth, at the same time shaking his head, as much as to say, 'What the devil are you doing there?' I did not hesitate a moment, and fired at his mouth. The animal fell on the spot as if struck by lightning. My men ran up at the shot; and as they were eager to lay hands on the lion, I fired a second time between the eyes, in order to secure his lying perfectly still. The first bullet had taken the course of the spine throughout its entire length, passing through the marrow, and had come out at the tail. I had never before fired a shot that penetrated so deeply, and yet I had only loaded with sixty grains. It is true the rifle was one of Devisme's and the bullets steel-pointed. The lion, a black one and among the oldest I have ever shot, supplied the kettles of four companies of infantry who were stationed at Klenchela. Receive, my dear Léon, the assurance of my devoted affection.
Jules Gerard."