It will appear from the annexed communication, which was accompanied by an original drawing for the present engraving, that there are interesting anecdotes connected with this spot.

For the Year Book.]

During the civil wars of the seventeenth century, Thame was surrounded by garrisons of the contending parties, and, consequently, partook of the miseries of the period.

Anthony a' Wood, the Oxford antiquary, was then a student in the town, and he has minutely recorded several of the skirmishes he witnessed. A part of his narrative vividly portrays the confusion. He says, "on the 27th of January, 1644, Colonel Thomas Blagge, governor of Wallingford Castle, roving about the country very early, with a troop of stout horsemen, consisting of seventy or eighty at most, met with a party of parliamenteers, or rebels, of at least 200, at long Crendon, about a mile northward from Thame; which 200 belonged to the garrison of Aylesbury, and, being headed by a Scot called Colonel Crafford, who, as I think, was governor of the garrison there, they pretended that they were looking out quarters for them. Colonel Blagge fought with, and made them run, till his men, following them too eagerly, were overpowered by multitudes that

afterwards came in to their assistance; at which time he himself, with his stout captain Walter (they two only), fought against a great many of the rebels for a long time together, in which encounter the brave colonel behaved himself as manfully with his sword as ever man did, slashing and beating so many fresh rebels with such courage and dexterity, that he would not stir till he had brought off his own men, whereof the rebels killed but two (not a man more), though they took sixteen, who staid too long behind. Captain Walter had six rebels upon him, and, according to his custom, fought it out so gallantly that he brought himself off with his colonel, and got home safe to Wallingford, with ali their men except eighteen. Colonel Blagge was cut over the face, and had some other hurts, but not dangerous. After the action was concluded at Crendon, and Blagge and his men forced to fly homewards, they took part of Thame in their way, and A. Wood and his fellow sojourners being then at dinner in the parlour with some strangers, they were all alarmed with their ap proach; and, by that time [that] they could run out of the house to look over the pale that parts it from the common road, they saw a great number of horsemen posting towards Thame over Crendon bridge, about a 'one's cast from their house (being the only house on that road

before you come into Thame), and, at the head of them, was Blagge, with a bloody face, and his party, with Captain Walter following him. The number, as was then guessed by A. Wood, and others of the family, was fifty, or more, and they all rode under the said pale, and close by the house. They did not ride in order, but each made shift to be foremost; and, one of them riding upon a shelving ground opposite to the door, his horse slipped, fell upon one side, and threw the rider (a lusty man), in A. Wood's sight. Colonel Crafford, who was well horsed, at a pretty distance before his man in pursuit, held a pistol to him, but, the trooper crying out quarter,' the rebels came up, rifled him, and took him and his horse away with them. Crafford rode on without touching him, and ever and anon he would be discharging his pistol at some of the fagg end of Blagge's horse, who rode through the west end of Thame, called Priest-end, leading towards Rycote."

After relating the particulars of another skirmish, A. Wood says, "This alarm and onset were made by the cavaliers from Oxon, about break of day on Sunday, September 7, before any of the rebels were stirring but, by the alarm taket, from the sentinel that stood at the end of the town, leading to Oxon, many of them came out of their beds into the marketplace, without their doublets, whereof adjutant-general Pride was one, who fought in his shirt. Some that were quartered near the church (as, in the vicar's house, where A. Wood then sojourned, and others) fled into the church (some with their horses also), and, going to the top of the tower, would be peeping thence to see the cavaliers run into the houses where they quartered, to fetch away their goods."

66

Often in my walks past the vicarage, and my visits to it, I think on the above passage in Anthony a' Wood, and picture to myself the young antiquarian disturbed from his dinner in the parlour, and leaning with his fellow-sojourners" over the pales (on the right of the house), beholding the brave colonel Blagge with a bloody face," and his "fifty or more stout horsemen" coming in full speed across the railed bridge, pursued by Crafford "and the rebels ;" and I am greatly as sisted in these my reveries, by the circumstance of the bridge, the house, the road, the shelving bank, and, indeed, all the

10th of June, 1735, Thomas Hearne, the antiquary, died at Edmund Hall, Oxon, at the age of 57. He was born at Littlefield Green, in the parish of White Waltham, Berks. His father, George Hearne, was parish-clerk, and resided in the vicarage-house, for which he paid no rent in consequence of his instructing eight boys in reading, writing, and arithmetic, and the Latin grammar. Thomas was sent as an assistant in the kitchen of the learned and pious Francis Cherry, Esq. but being uncouth in his person, clownish in his manners, and having his " nose always in a book," he became the ridicule of his party-colored brethren.Complaints were frequently made that Hearne would not even clean the knives, and Mr. Cherry, whose kindness would not suffer him to dismiss any servant without examining into the whole of his conduct, found that this scrub in his kitchen possessed a mind far above his station, upon which he boarded him at his father's, and paid for his education at Bray, three long miles from Waltham. Hearne's improvement was rapid ; and, on the recommendation of the learned Mr. Dodwell, Mr. Cherry received the youth again to his own house, not as a servant, but as one whom he patronized. This worthy gentleman entered him, when seventeen years of age, at Edmund Hall, Oxford, where he was even then able to collate Greek MSS. Vulgar and unsocial, and vehement in tory principles, he abhorred all who supported the line of Brunswick. He held an office in the Bodleian library, which he lost on account of his religious

and political virulence. The scholar, the historian, and the antiquary are eminently indebted to Hearne's researches. It may be said of him that he had no relations but manuscripts; no acquaintance but with books; no progeny but edited fragments of antiquity. After a life of labor, care, and perplexity, from intense application and illiberal manners, he was attended on his death-bed by a Roman Catholic priest, who gained admission to him, after he had refused to see a nonjuring clergyman. He left behind him a considerable sum of money, with a great quantity of valuable MSS., which he bequeathed to Dr. William Bedford, who sold them to Dr. Rawlinson. They afterwards fell into the hands of Moore Chester Hall, Esq., of Wickford, Essex, and at his death were the property of his widow from that period no traces of them could be discovered. It is believed that Hearne never had the curiosity to visit London. His person was well described by Mr. Cherry's daughter, the late Mrs. Berkley who was as great a curiShe says, osity as even Hearne himself. "Of all the lumber-headed, stupid-looking beings, he had the most stupia appearance, not only in his countenance (generally the index of the mind) but in his every limb. No neck, his head looking as it he was peeping out of a sack of corn; his arms short and clumsy, remarkably ill placed on his body; his legs ditto, as, I think, is evidently seen in a print which my mother had of him. In short, I have wondered that such a looking being should have oeen admitted (as a servant) into a genteel family."

"Item, for two doss' di Bosce-garlands for prestes and clerks on Saynt Barnabe daye, js. xd."

In explanation of "Woodrove" garlands Mr. Brand cites, from Gerard's Herbal, "Woodroffe, Asperula hath many square stalkes, full of joynts, and at every knot or joynt seven or eight long narrow leaves, set round about like a star, or the rowell of a spurre. The flowres grow at the top of the stems, of a white colour and of a very sweet smell, as is the rest of the herbe, which being made up into garlands or bundles, and hanging up in houses in the heat of summer, doth very well attemper the aire, coole and make fresh the place, to the delight and comfort of such as are therein.-Woodroofe is named of divers in Latine Asperula odorata, and of most men Aspergula odorata: of others Cordialis, and Stellaria: in English, Woodrooffe, Woodrowe, and Woodrowell. It is reported to be put into wine, to make a man merry, and to be good for the heart and liver."

On the 11th of June, 1727, king George I. died at Osnaburgh, of a fit of apoplexy which he was attacked with in his carriage, on his way to that city.

ARGYLE SQUARE, EDINBURGH. A tailor in London, named Campbell, having secured the good graces of his chief, the duke of Argyle, was promised

the first favor which that nobleman could

throw in his way. Upon the death of George I., which took place abroad, the duke receiving very early intelligence, concealed it from the whole court for a few hours, and only divulged the important news to his friend, the tailor, who, ere his less favored brethren in trade were aware, went and bought up all the black cloth in town, and forthwith drove such a trade, in supplying people with mourning at his own prices, that he shortly realised a little fortune, and laid the foundation of a greater. This he afterwards employed in building a few of the houses in Argyle-square, and conferred that name on them in honor of his patron.

DRESS, TEMP. George I.

There was not much variation in dress during this reign. The king was advanced

Chambers's Traditions of Edinburgh, i. 44.

in years, and seldom mixed with his subjects; and the act which precluded the granting of honors to foreigners prevented many German gentlemen from visiting England. There was no queen in England, and the ladies who accompanied his Majesty were neither by birth, propriety of conduct, age, nor beauty, qualified to make any impression on prevailing modes. The peace with France caused more intercourse between the two countries than had subsisted for many years; and a slight difference was introduced in the shape of the clothing, but so little as to be scarcely worth notice. Dr. John Harris published, in 1715, an elaborate "Treatise upon the Modes, or a Farewell to French Kicks," 8vo.; and on the particular recommendation of John, Duke of Argyle, the reverend reprobater of French fashions was made bishop of Landaff. This clergyman endeavoured to dissuade his countrymen from applying to foreigners in matters of dress, because we have "a right, and power, and genius," to supply ourselves. The French tailors, he observed, invented new modes of dress, and dedicated them to great men, as authors do books; as was the case with the roquelaure cloak, which at that time displaced the surtout; and which was called the roquelaure from being dedicated to the Duke of Roquelaure, whose cloak and title spread by this means throughout France and Britain. Dr. Harris says, the coat was not the invention of the French, but its present modifications and adjuncts, the pockets and pocket flaps, as well as the magnitude of the plaits, which differ from time to time in number, but always agree in the mystical efficacy of an unequal number, were entirely derived from France.

a slender union.

Yet the ladies reduced their shapes, as if to represent insects, which seem to have the two ends held together only by The consequence of this partial excision of the body was deformity and ill health. In vain did the Venus de Medicis prove that there is a due proportion observed by nature: in vain was it allowed that amongst unclothed Africans a crooked woman was

as great a rarity as a straight European lady. Mademoiselle Pantine, a mistress of Marshal Saxe, infested us with that stiffened case which injured and destroyed the fine natural symmetry of the female form. The reproach of the poet was little understood, and as little regarded

Farewell Aruna !" Still," in Fancy's ear,
As in the evening wind, thy murmers swell,
Th' enthusiast of the lyre, who wander'd here,
Seems yet to strike his visionary shell,
Of power to call forth Pity's tenderest tear,
Or wake wild Frenzy from her hideous cell!
Charlotte Smith.

On the 12th of June, 1759, died, in his thirty-seventh year, William Collins one of the most unhappy of our most gifted poets.

A contributor to memorials of Collins says his father was a hatter at Chichester. "He lived in a genteel style, and I think filled the office of mayor more than once; his death left his affairs rather embarhe was pompous in his manners, but at rassed. Colonel Martyn, his wife's brother, greatly assisted his family; and supported Mr. William Collins at the university, where he stood for a fellowship, which, to his great mortification, he lost, and which was his reason for quitting that place; at least, that was his pretext. But he had other reasons. He was in arrears to his bookseller, his tailor, and other tradesmen; but, I believe, a desire to partake of the gaiety and dissipation of London was his principal motive. Coregiment; and Mr. Payne, a near relalonel Martyn was at this time with his

tion, had the management of the Collins's affairs, and had, likewise, a commission to supply the Collins's with small sums

• Noble.

use.

of money. The Colonel was the more sparing in this order, having suffered considerably by Alderman Collins, who had formerly been his agent, and, forgetting that his wife's brother's cash was not his own, had applied it to his own When Mr. William Collins came from the university, he called on his cousin Payne, gaily dressed, and with a feather in his hat; at which his relation expressed surprise, and told him his appearance was by no means that of a young man who had not a single guinea to call his own. This gave him great offence; but, remembering his sole dependence for subsistence was in the power of Mr. Payne, he concealed his resentment; yet could not refrain speaking freely behind his back, and saying he thought him a dull fellow; though this indeed was an epithet he was pleased to bestow on every one who did not think as he would have them. His frequent demands for a supply obliged Mr. Payne to tell him he must pursue some other line of life, for he was sure Colonel Martyn would be displeased with him for having done so much. This resource being stopped, forced him to set about some work, of which his History of the Revival of Learning was the first, and for which he printed proposals (one of which I have), and took the first subscription money from many of his particular friends. The book was begun, but soon stood still. From the freedom subsisting between us, we took the liberty of saying any thing to each other: I one day reproached him with idleness; when, to convince me that my censure was unjust, he showed me many sheets of his translation of Aristotle, which he said he had fully employed himself about, to prevent him from calling on any of his friends so frequently as he used to do. Soon after this, he engaged with Mr. Manby, a bookseller on Ludgate Hill, to furnish him with some lives for the Biographia Britannica, which Manby was then publishing. He showed me some of the lives in embryo, but I do not recollect that any of them came to maturity. To raise a present subsistence, he set about writing his Odes; and, having a general invitation to my home, he frequently passed whole days there, which he employed in writing them, and as frequently burning what he had written, after reading them to ine. Many of them which pleased me I struggled to preserve but

without effect; for, pretending he would alter them, he got them from me and thrust them into the fire. He was an acceptable companion every where; and, among the gentlemen who loved him for his genius, I may reckon Drs. Armstrong, Barrowby, and Hill; and Messrs. Quin, Garrack, and Foote, who frequently took his opinion on their pieces, before they were seen by the public. He was parti cularly noticed by the geniuses who frequented the Bedford and Slaughter's coffee-houses. From his knowledge of Garrick, he had the liberty of the scenes and green-room, where he made diverting observations on the vanity and false consequence of that class of people; and his manner of relating them to his particular friends was extremely entertaining. In this manner he lived with and upon his friends until the death of Colonel Martyn, who left what fortune he died possessed of to him and his two sisters. I fear I cannot be certain as to dates, but believe he left the university in 1743. Some circumstances I recollect make me almost certain he was in London that year; but I will not be so positive of the time he died, which I did not hear of until long after it happened. When his health and faculties began to decline, he went to France, and afterwards to Bath, in hopes his health might be restored, but without success. I never saw him after his sister had removed him from M'Donald's mad-house, at Chelsea, to Chichester, where he soon sunk into a deplorable state of idiotism."

This brief outline might suffice for ordinary readers; and higher minds might "imagine all the rest," in the life of him, "who more than any other of our martyrs to the lyre, has thrown over all his images and his thoughts a tenderness of mind, and breathed a freshness over the pictures of poetry, which the mighty Milton has not exceeded, and the laborious Gray has not attained." A few other passages, how. ever, may be useful as warnings to some of less ability and like temperament. The incidents most interesting in the life of Collins would be those events which elude the vulgar biographer; that invisible train of emotions which were gradually passing in his mind; those passions which moulded his genius, and which broke it! Who could record the vacillations of a poetic temper; its early hope, and its late