murderers' den; and doubtless many a deed of slaughter has been committed
in them, which has never come to light, under tyrannical power, which has
never come to the knowledge of men or blotted the page of history.

The vast masses of the castle ruins which lie scattered about and in the
vale below, form a scene of havoc and devastation, at once magnificent and
impressive. The towers were blasted with gunpowder, and many

"Which do slope
Their heads to their foundations,"

appear as if they were yet staggering from the blast of the mine which
sprung them from their beds; they lean as if ready to tumble down the
steep sides of the hill, and appear as if a child's finger would roll them
headlong. The ruins are in the possession of the family of Bankes.

In a meadow in the vale on the west side, which leads, by the by, to
Orchard Farm, is to be seen a curious earthwork, apparently ancient
British, which, from its structure, might have been a place of druidical
judicature, or for pastimes. This relic has, we believe, escaped the
notice of the intelligent Rev. John Clavell of Kimmeridge; and if the
public are ever to be favoured with the result of his studies and patient
investigations, it will be one of the most extraordinary productions of
its kind.

There is a small work on Corfe Castle, published by a very intelligent
resident of Wareham; and we are in hopes that the grey and hoary ruins may
call forth the muse of J.F. Pennie, who resides on this wild romantic
district, and whom we met with pleasure in our rambles.