preservation and good condition of these statues, even to the minutest adornment of the sculpture, and their very noses,—­the most vulnerable part of a marble man, as of a living one, are miraculous.  Except in Westminster Abbey, among the chapels of the kings, I have seen none so well preserved.  Perhaps they owe it to the loyalty of Oxfordshire, diffused throughout its neighborhood by the influence of the University, during the great Civil War and the rule of the Parliament.  It speaks well, too, for the upright and kindly character of this old family, that the peasantry, among whom they had lived for ages, did not desecrate their tombs, when it might have been done with impunity.

There are other and more recent memorials of the Harcourts, one of which is the tomb of the last lord, who died about a hundred years ago.  His figure, like those of his ancestors, lies on the top of his tomb, clad, not in armor, but in his robes as a peer.  The title is now extinct, but the family survives in a younger branch, and still holds this patrimonial estate, though they have long since quitted it as a residence.

We next went to see the ancient fish-ponds appertaining to the mansion, and which used to be of vast dietary importance to the family in Catholic times, and when fish was not otherwise attainable.  There are two or three, or more, of these reservoirs, one of which is of very respectable size,—­large enough, indeed, to be really a picturesque object, with its grass-green borders, and the trees drooping over it, and the towers of the castle and the church reflected within the weed-grown depths of its smooth mirror.  A sweet fragrance, as it were, of ancient time and present quiet and seclusion was breathing all around; the sunshine of to-day had a mellow charm of antiquity in its brightness.  These ponds are said still to breed abundance of such fish as love deep and quiet waters:  but I saw only some minnows, and one or two snakes, which were lying among the weeds on the top of the water, sunning and bathing themselves at once.

I mentioned that there were two towers remaining of the old castle:  the one containing the kitchen we have already visited; the other, still more interesting, is next to be described.  It is some seventy feet high, gray and reverend, but in excellent repair, though I could not perceive that anything had been done to renovate it.  The basement story was once the family-chapel, and is, of course, still a consecrated spot.  At one corner of the tower is a circular turret, within which a narrow staircase, with worn steps of stone, winds round and round as it climbs upward, giving access to a chamber on each floor, and finally emerging on the battlemented roof.  Ascending this turret-stair, and arriving at the third story, we entered a chamber, not large, though occupying the whole area of the tower, and lighted by a window on each side.  It was wainscoted from floor to ceiling with dark oak, and had a little fireplace in one of