Here it was, on the 1st December, 1642, Charles I. was brought, after holding his mock court at Newport, by Colonel Cobbit, who had seized him in the name of the army. Here, too, he still showed all the foolish childishness which Laud had taught him, putting faith in the omen of his candle burning brightly or dimly,[189] which detracts so much from any interest we might otherwise feel for him in his days of care and sorrow. A closet is shown where he is said to have been confined, and where his Golden Rules are said to have hung; but from Herbert’s memoirs, evidently neither the room where he lived or slept.[190] Herbert’s account of Hurst is so graphic that I give it nearly in full:—“The wind and tide favouring, the King and his attendants crossed the narrow sea in three hours,[191] and landed at Hurst Castle, or Block House rather, erected by order of King Henry VIII., upon a spot of earth a good way into the sea, and joined to the firm land by a narrow neck of sand, which is covered over with small loose stones and pebbles; and upon both sides the sea beats, so as at spring tides and stormy weather the land passage is formidable and hazardous. The castle has very thick stone walls, and the platforms are regular, and both have several culverines and sakers mounted.... The captain of this wretched place was not unsuitable; for, at the King’s going ashore, he stood ready to receive him with small observance. His look was stern. His hair and large beard were black and bushy. He held a partizan in his hand; and, Switz-like, had a great basket-hilt sword on his side. Hardly could one see a man of more grim aspect, and no less robust and rude was his behaviour.”[192] The account is very life-like, though some allowance must be made for Herbert’s prejudices against this gaunt Puritan captain, who, we learn, by-and-by became more civil. Colonel Cobbit, in whose charge the King was, seems to have treated him with uniform respect and kindness. Charles stayed here six-and-twenty days, walking along the beach, watching the ships passing up and down the Solent, and receiving the cavaliers of Hampshire, who came for the last time to pay their respects. Then, at last, he was suddenly taken away to show at Whitehall a better courage and wisdom in death than in life. About three miles from Milford, on the mouth of the Boldre Water, lies the port of Lymington, the Mark of the Limingas, as the neighbouring hamlet of Pennington is that of the Penningas.[193] Its manor, like that of Christchurch, once belonged to Isabella de Fortibus, and was given, with some other possessions, by Edward I., to her rightful heir, the Earl of Devon, whose arms are still quartered with those of the Corporation. It is another of those towns, which, like Christchurch, though in a very different way, is associated with the past. It has no monastic buildings, no ruins of any kind, no church worth even a glance. Yet, too, it can tell of departed greatness.