It was not, however, for long a favourite residence, and by the earlier part of the present century the ducal owner seldom passed any time under its roof. At last, on the rejection of the Reform Bill by the House of Lords in 1831, the Nottingham "lambs," as the town roughs are called--seemingly because that is about the last animal to which they present any resemblance--"determined to make the castle a burnt-offering to the shade of the outcast Bill." With the usual British negligence, no precautions had been taken against a riot, so they had for a season full opportunity to disport themselves. After a little preliminary diversion in the country they swarmed up the castle hill, forced the gates, piled up combustibles in the rooms, kindled them, and in a short time the whole building was in flames. Thus the duke got rid of a useless house, and as he recovered damages from the Hundred, he probably did not bear much malice against the rabble of Nottingham. For some forty years it stood a mere roofless, floorless, windowless shell, an unpicturesque ruin. The walls, however, were still in good condition, and were ultimately acquired by the municipal authorities, at whose expense the structure was thoroughly restored for use as a museum; this was opened in 1878, the adjoining grounds being laid out as an ornamental garden. The terrace commands a fine view over the valley of the Trent. "Striking at all times, it is never so remarkable as when that river is in flood. Formerly this was a common event, but the inundations were mitigated by the removal, in the year 1871, of the old Trent Bridge, with its narrow arches, and the erection in its stead of the present handsome structure, which gives a more ready passage to the swollen waters. Still, it is not a rare occurrence to see the whole valley, as far as the eye can reach, converted into one huge lake. The roads in many places are submerged; the railway embankments barely overtop the waters; hedges almost disappear, and the trees rise forlornly from the flood; whole groups of houses are converted into a bad imitation of Venice, and the water disports itself on the ground-floors of warehouses, and among the chattels of store-yards, greatly to the detriment of their owners." [Illustration: NEWARK CASTLE.]