happy Raleigh; had he magnanimously dismissed him from trial, since he had no other evidence than suspicion of his guilt, nor condemned him to punishment because his companions were concerned; it is probable the hero had ever after struggled to make more comfortable to this prince an uneasy throne. That such sentiments of policy were familiar to James in those cases upon which reason would coolly decide, we cannot doubt. They are so obvious, that it must only be a mind blinded with passion, that will not act upon them; or the character must be strikingly abandoned, who:n, when applied, they will not reform. But be that as it may, the sentiments of James when speaking of the injustice of an opposite practice, leave him no excuse for the verdict against Raleigh; and shew the emptiness of moral theory, however noble, when our actions flow from the passions which we possess. In his speech to the parliament which assembled inmediately after the discovery of the gunpowder-plot, he delivers himself thus: "That though religion had engaged the conspirators in so criminal an attempt, yet we ought not to involve all the Roman catholics in the same guilt, or suppose them equally disposed to commit such enormous barbarities. Many holy men have concurred with that church in her doctrines, who never thought of dethroning kings, or of sanctifying as sassination. The wrath of heaven is denounced against crimes, but innocent error may obtain its favour; and nothing. can be inore hateful than the uncharitable ness of the puritans, who condemn alike to eternal punishments even the most inoffensive proselytes to popery." For his own part, he adds, "that conspiracy, how ever atrocious, should never alter in the least his plan of government: while with one hand he punished guilt, with the other he would still support and protect innocence." To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. SIR, N the Magazine for last month, your Canada balsam one ounce, spirit of turpentine two ounces: mix them together. Before this composition is applied, the drawing or print should be sized with a solution of isinglass in water; and, when dry, apply the varnish with camel's-hair brush. Chatham, March 20, 1810. THE W. W. For the Monthly Magazine. WALKS in BERKSHIRE.-No. III. (Continued from page 216.) THE village of Wargrave is not altogether "unknown to fame," if by that character may be justly expressed the species of celebrity acquired by the cir cumstance of having afforded a residence to the late lord Barrymore. The house in which that gay nobleman lived is not large; but it is seated on a most attrac tive spot, and presents an object of considerable interest when viewed from the winding shores of the Thames. The gar dens extend in a gentle slope to the water-side; and various spreading trees, and tufts of shrubs, form shady recesses, doubly inviting from the contiguity of the broad and deep stream of the great English river. Here, with rank, affluence, and health, the three great objects. of human aspiration, it would appear that a man might be "the happiest of his kind," if the correctness of taste allowed him to derive his enjoyments from domestic intercourse, a lettered ease, and the exercise of philanthropy. But, according to the punning assertion of a comic writer, (who, as a punster, should certainly be interdicted from writing any thing but farces) "men will sometimes prove giddy in a world that is always turning round;" and it was the affliction of the nobleman on whom Fortune, in one of her brightest moods, be stowed this choice spot as a residence, to experience a vertigo that destroyed, his relish for all those fine arts which sooth and dignify existence; unless boxing, horse-racing, and back-sword playing. must be so entitled. I crave mercy of his memory! he built a play-house in some of your readers will inform him of the best method of preparing the composition which is now used for varnishing coloured drawings and prints, so as to make them resemble paintings in oil. and his lordship mimicked, at secondhand, the mistakes by which himself was characterized. But the feverish gaiety of the hour is over. The villa has another master; and I do not pretend to assert that the fol- the materials of the theatre have assisted lowing is the best method of preparing a in raising the workhouse of a neighbourcomposition for that purpose; but I have ing parish. Nor would I advert in unused it, and found it answer. Take of gentle language to the memory of a MONTHLY Mac, No. 198. noblesan nobleman who descended to "the tomb of those whose honours gilded his dawn," at so early a period of life, that there appeared quite sufficient time for alteration; were it not necessary to remark the baneful effect of such an example on the manners of a rural neighbourhood. All that simplicity of feeling and deportment, so much praised by the poets, and which, in a limited degree, does really exist in the generality of English villages, inevitably fell before the influence of the low and dissipated herds who conduced to his lordship's amusement. Time may wear out the most prejudicial impressions; yet it seems probable that the residence of lord B. in this hamlet will operate on the posterity of the peasants a century hence; and that a lesson in boxing, or a "genteel" way of shaking a dice-box, will pass, in lieu of a family recipe, down to the great-grandchildren of those who were witnesses of the revelry which once prevailed. The manor of Wargrave formed a part of the valuables possessed by queen Fanma, mother of Edward the Confessor; and by this lady it was presented to the see of Winchester. It is a singular proof of the tenacity with which the unlettered preserve oral information, that a dwell ing, supposed to be built on the site of that ancient manor-house which was once occasionally visited by the queen, is still called Queen Emma's House; and the neighbours talk of their former illus trious lady of the manor, with as much ready familiarity, as if she had dwelt in the great house of the village not more than a century back. " A second legend describes a house in the village as having belonged to John of Gaunt (Ghent), duke of Lancaster. But here the more sober details of those who write the chronicles of towns and villages, do not corroborate the testimony of our traditionary historians. I cannot discover that the time-honoured Lancaster,' as Shakspeare terms this turbulent and imperious son of the third Edward, ever stood possessed of an estate in Berkshire. Yet it is certain that, in the year 1359, he was married at Reading, to Blanche, the younger daugh ter of Henry Plantagenet. Nearly all traditional report, however vague and desultory it may appear, has a connexion with fact. Perhaps the newly-married couple visited Wargrave, during the festivities which succeeded their nuptials; and we may readily apprehend, that the mansion honoured with their presence, became known to the neigh bouring country-people by the appella tion of "John of Gaunt's House." Ilistorical circumstances of a much more important description, have experienced greater misrepresentation, in the course of their descent through the generations of the prejudiced or illiterate. Like many other places of little consequence, Wargrave possessed a weekly market during those early periods at which the wants of the people were few, and the means of communication more difficult than at present. A Roman coin was found near Wargrave, some few years back; but this is the only indication of the Romans having visited the spot. They had a military station at White Waltham, which is not more than five miles distant ; and the coin was probably dropped by some careless straggler, whose curiosity induced him to cross the soft and pleasing expanse of green-sward that lies between the two villages.* The church contains a monument to the memory of Mr. Day, the author of Sandford and Merton, who lost his life by a fall from his horse in the neighbour hood. Perhaps it may not be impertinent to copy the epitaph inscribed on the monument of so good a man and so respectable a writer, when it is observed that the lines were produced by himself in honour of a deceased friend, and were selected as a funeral tribute by his widow, under the persuasion of their justly expressing his talents and virtues : "Beyond the reach of time or fortune's top of which may be seen an elevation on the Portsmouth coast;) and to the right the dwelling and lands of a farmer who lately served the office of sheriff for the county. As mere extent of prospect scarcely compensates the fatigue of climbing a hill; and the contemplation of those lucky chances which sometimes aid industry, and enable men to found houses, is not likely to produce much amusement to any other than the person who reaps benefit from them; I pass both these objects, and conduct the reader across several level inclosures of rich and well-cultivated land, to the village of Twyford. All here is life and bustle. We are now on the great Bath road; and high-crested Folly, and drooping suppliant Sickness, press with equal speed to the teinple of Bladud; each leaving a lesson of instruction as he passes. Twyford is chiefly memorable for a skirmish between a detachment of Irish dragoons, and a few of the soldiers belonging to the prince of Orange, in 1688. It may be remembered, that the only military opposition of any moment made to the approaches of the protestant William, occurred at Reading. A serious conflict there took place between some Scottish and Irish troops, and an advanced party of the prince's horse. But the royalists were speedily routed. In. deed, if the complaint preferred by the partizans of James be founded on truth, it is no wonder that they were compelled to fly; for it was asserted by the adherents of the court, that the townspeople of Reading fired from the house-windows on the backs of the Irish soldiers, while the prince's cavalry charged them in front. It is certain that James was very unpopular at Reading; and a song was composed in memory of this fight, adapted to the tune of lillibullero. A few of the vanquished party rallied at Twyford, and faced their pursuers on a little hill contiguous to the village; but they were again compelled to take flight, and the greater part succeeded in joining their friends at Colnbrook. On this little mound, the traveller must ineritably pause, and gaze with satisfac Lord Ogilvie fought at the head of the Scottish regiment, though he was then more than eighty years of age. † Many human bones, and one entire skeleton, have been found by the followers of the plough, carelessly deposited in the soil of this hill; and, though several soldiers were certainly slain in the conflict described tion on every rood of land connected with the spot where the last sword was drawn with a view of preventing the interference of William in the political affairs of England. If any instance of unusual gratitude, or liberality of feeling, (though united with the founding of a chapel) lie in the perambulator's way, he is to blame if he do not stop and pick it up. On one of the most cold and dreary nights of a winter, towards the middle of the 17th century, a child was found, half-famished and half-frozen, at the door of a humble cottage in Twyford. About his neck was tied a label, in which the writer implored pity on the unguarded forehead of the poor babe, and stated the name by which he might be called, should he survive. The child's look was more eloquent than the periods of this writer; the cottager sheltered the foundling, and caused him to be instructed in those rudimental parts of learning which are found, by experience, to impart quite sufficient erudition for the purpose of making a fortune. Fated, as it would seen, to an eccentric lot, the boy quitted Twyford, and, after various rambles, set tled in London, where he amassed a con siderable property. Abandoned by those who should have possessed a claim on his heart, he knew no home except the village which had protected his perilous infancy; and, in commemoration of the humanity of his benefactor, and under the hope of exciting a similar compassionate feeling in the breasts of others, he built a chapel of ease at Twyford, and founded a charity-school for ten children on the spot where he had once been exposed, forlorn, and friendless, to the inclemency of a December's night. Ruscomb, a little rural parish, which you are sure to be told contains neither shop nor public house, adjoins the village above, no entry respecting their burial occurs in the register of the parish for that period. It appears probable therefore, that the in habitants of Twyford contemptuously rew the bodies of friend and foe into shallow graves on the field of action. On searching the registers of Ruscomb parish, I noticed the following entry, which appears to prove that no seclusion of residence was a preservative from that dreadful pestilence which so frequently half-depopulated the metropolis: 1646, Edward Pollentine, and five of his children, which died of the plague in Twyford, with some others who died of that disease, were buried on and about May 17." of of Twyford. The neat and secluded air of the cottages which are occasionally discovered in this parish, interests the vistor in its favour; and he forms much expectation concerning its natural attractions, when he finds there is a lake within its precincts, that takes a name from the parish. Ruscomb certainly does possess many beautics, for which it is indebted entirely to nature; and the lake may, without doubt, be a choice object in the eyes of the inhabitants; but the surprise of the traveller is not totally unmixed with indignation, when he finds that the district so entitled is, in fact, a vast expanse of low pasture-ground, which in winter may perhaps assume some faint resemblance of a lake, when the neighbouring rivers overflow, but which, for at least ten months out of the twelve, is covered with the flocks and herds of the thriving Ruscomb husband men. It appears that cardinal Pole was made "prebendary of Roscomb, in the church of Salisbury," in 1517. But the visitor is more interested when he finds that the seat now tenanted by Mr. Comyns, but which is the property of Jady Eyre, was formerly the residence of William Penn, who is supposed to have here written bis prefatory observations to George Fox's Journal. This primitive supporter of the society of Friends, seems to have been popular in the vicinity of his retirement; for his name at entire length, or compound words allusive to bis American possessions, frequently occur in the parish-register of that period, as the appellations bestowed on their children by his rustic neighbours. An agreeable walk through the grounds formerly belonging to William Penn, (several points of which command rich views over the lake, and the adjacent country,) ushers the pedestrian to the small park dependent on Stanlake-house, once the seat of the Aldworths, the representative of which family now possesses the title of Lord Braybrooke. The chief part of this house appears to have been built in the early part of Elizabeth's reign, and is strongly marked with all the architectural peculiarities usual at that period. A contemptible perver sion of taste has caused some improver of the edifice to construct a large addi The house was cased over, and large additional offices were built, by the late lordchiet-justice Eyre. tion, in the meanest possible style of the present time! How much it is to be regretted that men descended from ancient families, and inhabiting the houses of their forefathers, do not perceive that they are treating the memory of the dead with disrespect, while they disgust the eye of the living, by thus placing the prim formality of modern days beside the wild irregular beauties of a llenry's or an Elizabeth's venerable era ! The nature of my excursion will not allow me to disdain minute particulars. I do not walk amid the sublimities of nature, or the refinements of art, No Alps on Alps arise to crowd my page with a cluster of wonders; nor can I call the painter or the statuary to impart a grace Thus circumto any descriptions. stanced, I cannot afford to let pass untold the local anecdote or family-legend; and I therefore point the reader's attention to a narrow lane, with rugged hawthorns and ancient pollards on each side, and which is directly opposite to the principal entrance of Staulake-paik. This rural avenue is termed Bucking ham's Lane, and it derives its naine from the perpetration of an honorable murde: ; for honourable certainly we must call the death-wound of sir Owen Buckingham, since he received it in the practice of duelling. About fifty years back, sir Owen Buckthe ingham dined with Mr. opulent resident at Stanlake-house; and nothing could exceed the hospitality of the entertainer, or the merriment of the visitors. The glass circulated briskly ; and sir Owen, in the unguarded hour of wine and mirth, spoke, it is believed with levity concerning the conduct of a lady whose health was proposed by the master of the house. Blood alone could expiate the offence; and, frantic with wine and rage, both parties proceeded to the lane on the outer side of the gate, and decided the question with their swords. The moon lent a dubious light to the barbarous scene, and the conflict was for a time maintained with mutual obstinacy; but sir Owen stumbled, and the sword of his adversary entered his breast. Several servants had witnessed the combat, and they now supported the wounded man to the house; but he died on the staircase, as they were endeavouring to convey him to a chamber. A countryman shewed me the spot on which sir Owen fell; and spoke, in his way, a satire on duelling, by observing, " that "that it was a pity gentlemen could not take pattern froin their inferiors, and end their quarrels without bloodshed." Let us quit this polluted dell, (which, if pastoral deities ever inhabited it, they must have long since forsaken in disgust,) and procced on our walk. A shaded lane, on whose hedges the wild honeysuckle hangs in grateful profusion, while the song of the husbandman (his bosom happily a stranger to that refinement of sentiment which leads to deliberate slaughter) chears the traveller as he pursues his path, conducts us to the ancient seat of the Comptons, now the enviable residence of candour, urbanity, and science. The agricultural records of the county bear testimony to the success of the present proprietor of Hintonhouse, in experimental farming*; his philosophical acquirements are known to the few, who consider them of the highest description; his philanthropy and good sense are familiar to the whole neighbourhood, and possess the singular felicity of being venerated by all classes. Directly before the gates of Hinton house lie spread the rich lands, lately inclosed, which formerly belonged, in right of commonage, to the parishioners of Ilurst. So much has been said by able investigators respecting the propriety of inclosures, that I forbear to suggest those objections which once had much weight with my mind, but which it is possible arose from too narrow and contined a view of the subject. Yet I cannot help believing that the common rights of the ancient Englishman were a source of comfort to bis humble family, and served to endear to him the laws and well-being of his native soil. It is certain that no positive good can be attained without an alloy of attendant evil. I do not seek to deny that society may derive some real benefits from the cultivation of fresh lands; but I must think that the inclosures which now so generally prevail, inflict an injury equally dubitable, by destroying much of that independent spirit, and fervid simplicity of character, which have been accustomed to invigorate the British peasant, and to render him invincible when armed in the cause of his country. This is not a time to encroach, without Dr. Mavor, in his "View of the Agriculture of Berkshire," bestows a just eulogy on the spirit and ingenuity of Dr. Nicholls; and there gives a sketch of the "Hinton plough and scuffier," implements invented by that gentleman, much reflection, on the privileges of the poor. Whatever may have produced the alteration, the English peasant is certainly not in so eligible a situation as that possessed by his forefather. If he be, what causes his frequent attendance on the alms giving table of the parish officer?-Three-fourths of our country labourers cannot, I hope, be termed indolent, deceptive, and vicious; yet three-fourths (or perhaps a larger proportion) are pensioners of the overseer. I believe that, on candid investigation, it would be found that the wages of the peasant have not increased in a due ratio with the price of every article needed by his frugal household. At any rate, it is obvious, that the farmers have grown rich, while their servants have become poor. But if the labourers have really sunk in self-estimation, and are indolent and deceitful on principle, how much it is to be lamented that men of large landed estates do not endeavour to rouse the spirit of the inferior classes, by proposing periodical rewards for industry, and propriety of deportment! Surely the idea is neither romantic nor visionary. The peasants are not altogether insensible to honorary distinctions; for they will wrestle with ardor at a wake for the rilbon, or laced hat, that is named as the barren recompence of their valour or skill. Still less can it be supposed, that they would look with indifference on the solid remuneration of such valuables or privileges as it might be desirable for the country-gentleman to hold forth, for the encouragement of frugality, and a perseverance in laborious habits. Although local influence and excrtion are chiefly calculated for the undertaking, it appears that government might, with entire safety to the agricultural interest, do much towards the amelioration of the peasant's destiny. I will briefly mention one instance, in which it appears that the legislature might interfere, with marked advantage to the labouring countryman. The duties on malt absolutely prevent the inhabitant of the cottage from retaining our wholesome national liquor as a part of his family-aliment. Tea, (or rather streams of warin water coloured with indigenous herbs, and digof beer in his impoverished household; nified with that name,) supplies the place and undermines his own vigour, while it more hastily enervates the little race expected to till the ground for a succeeding generation. |