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sable trappyngs wrought abut by the Nunnes of Saint Kenna, with gould and silver, his hayre braded with ribbons, and a chaperon with the auntient arms of Bristowe fastened on his forehead. Master Maier bare in his hande a goulden rodde, and a congean squire bare in his hande his helmet, waulkinge by the syde of his horse. Then came the earldermen and city broders, mounted on sabyell horses dyght with white trappyngs, and plumes, and scarlet caps, and chaperons, having thereon sable plumes ; after them, the priests and frears, parish, mendicant, and secular, some syngynge Sainte Warburgh's songe, others soundynge clarions thereto, and others some citricalles.

“In thilke manner reachynge the brydge, the manne with the anlace stode on the fyrst top of a mound, yreed in the midst of the brydge, then went up the manne with the sheelde, after him the minstrels and clarions; and then the preestes and freeres all in white albes, making a most goodly shewe, the maire and earldermen standinge rounde, they songe with the sound of claryons the songe of Sainte Baldwyne, which being done, the manne on the top threw with great might his anlace into the sea, and the clarions sounded an auncient charge and forloyne. Then theie song again the song of Saincte Warburgh, and proceeded up Xts hill to the crosse, where a Latin sermon was preached by Ralph de Blunderville, and with a sound of clarion theye againe want to the brydge and there dined, spendynge the rest of the daye in sports and plaies, the freers of Saint Augus



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tyne doing the plaiye of the knights of Bristow meckynge a great fire at night on Kynslate-hill.”

How the young scribe must have enjoyed the various questionings, surmisings, and gossip which this description must have occasioned in the gossiping city! The picture is so like an actual occurrence, that we need not wonder that it was accepted as the literal description of an eye-witness. And is there not a little of his usual irony in making the priest who preached the Latin sermon bear the suggestive name of Blunderville ? But we must not pause longer over this scene; and from the bridge we pass to Corn Street, and, reaching the Council House, pause again. Here once stood the church of St. Ewen, in ancient times the minster, and in front of which, in 1461, the “Bristowe Tragedie" was enacted. Here, in the presence of Edward IV., the Duke of Gloucester, and other notables of the time, was Sir Charles Bawdin beheaded. In vain did the Canynge plead for him; for when did one of the house of York spare. a Lancastrian in his power? How often must Chatterton have walked before the spot, conjuring up the old church, and the old cross, and the old scene, which he has so well described in his ballad ! He had seen the great procession which accompanied the noble knight to his death, archers before and behind him

With bended bowe echyne ynne hand ;” when

“Bold as a lyon came Sir Charles,

Drawn onne a cloth layde sledde,
By two black stedes ynne trappynges white,

With plumes uponne theyre hedde.

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“ Thenne came the mair and aldermene

Ynne clothe of scarlet dec't;
And theyre

lyng menne echyne,
Like Easterne princes trickt;

“And after them, a multitude

Of citizens dydde thronge.
The windowes were all full of heddes,

As he dydd passe alonge.
“ And when hee came to the hyghe crosse,

Syr Charles dydd turne and saie,
O Thou, that savest manne from synne,

Wash mie soule cleane thys daie!'

"At the grete yn mynster window sate

The Kinge ynne royale state,
To see Charles Bawdin goe alonge.

To hys most welcome fate.”

What a contrast is this death spectacle of the past to the present living aspect of the place !

We next pass on to the College Green, which was another of Chatterton's favourite resorts. It is now a pleasant place for a lounge. There is the cathedral—the smallest, if not the prettiest, in Englandworth a visit. On this green, we are told, the young poet used to walk with the “young girls that stately paraded there to show their finery." We walk under the trees which surround the green, and think how often and with what thoughts he passed under their pleasant and grateful shade. We see his pale melancholy face light up, and his bright eye sparkle, as he meets some one more welcome than the rest, or as some fine thought flashes across his mind.

But on the College Green, we suspect, he was rarely visited

by fine thoughts; the place for them was Redcliff Church. So we return to his favourite haunt, and pass once more—this time not without a long pause —the fine old house of the fine old man Canynge, now appropriately enough a bookseller's; and are again at the church steps, gazing on the monument of “the marvellous boy." We see him, a lad of

“ seventeen, ready to set off for London, in search of fame and fortune, standing on these steps, laughing, talking merrily and hopefully; distributing gingerbread among his female friends and companions before be

goes ;

and we see him a few months afterwards lying cold and dead in a bitter cold garret, in Brook Street, in “stony-hearted” London. And now we see him clad as in boyhood while a scholar at Colston's, on the summit of that Gothic pedestal, gazing on the city which he despised, beneath the shadow of the magnificent church that he so dearly loved.

We know that Chatterton poisoned himself; that they brought in a verdict of felo-de-se ; and that it is said he was buried in some workhouse grave in Shoe Lane, London ; but there is a tradition that his mother succeeded in obtaining his body, and getting it interred in his own beloved churchyard. There is sufficient evidence of this to justify belief; and most devoutly do we hold that the stranger who visits Redcliff Church, has made his pilgrimage at once to the "birth-place and grave of Chatterton."





PERHAPS no city is better known than that of Bath. Always famous for its waters,- for their real or supposed sanitary efficacy, it has known all the glory and all the shame which are the necessary consequences of being a “ fashionable place.” Of great antiquity, it is rich in historical associations and records of the past. From being a famous Roman station, it has passed through many phases; and is, we believe, at the present time in one of those conditions which sooner or later is certain to coine to either places or people who have the good or ill fortune ever to become attractive to that most capricious class of butterflies,—the seekers after pleasure.

Bath is still an attractive city, and one well worth not only a visit, but a long sojourn. The power and the civilization of the masters of the world have left many legacies in this favoured place. Remains of pagan temples; remains of the old Roman baths; old tesselated pavements; altars bearing inscriptions; and old coins, Roman, Saxon, and Danish, have been discovered; and there are still many evi- . dences extant of its various conquerors and possessors. Each race has left its impression on the place; and

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