LONDON, SATURDAY, JULY 2, 1870.

richly laden with blossom; the wild flowers beginning to show themselves; the cuckoo and CONTENTS.—No 131. the thrush singing; the sun shining, without NOTES:- Towton Field, 1 Charles Dickens and the which nothing can be beautiful; and the insect "Memoirs of Grimaldi," 2-The Lambs and Vincent Noworld on the wing: that kind of a day, in the vello, 3-A other Centenarian: Dr. Holyoke-An Ancient Couplet "The World is a Stage, but the Stage is not happy spring-time of the year, when one calls to the World"- Louis Napoleon's Birthplace - Comic Etymind everything that has been read of the praises mology-Queen Henrietta-Maria at Bridlington-Miracle Plays in Spain - "Physician, heal thyself," 3. of the country in both ancient and modern poets. QUERIES:-American Knights - Brixton Manor House, Theocritus, Virgil, and happy Horace all loved

Surrey British North America - Celtic Remains at Ad-
dington, co. Kent-"Civantick Coins in Foundation
Stones - Cornwall and Cornouaille - Crouching Venus
"Le Fil de la Bonne Vierge (Gossamer Threads) "- Hamp-
shire Country Churchyard The Kerlock Masons'
Medals- Mortar Mark - "Nortative": "Sororising"
Paul's Grove-Paulet of Amport - Portraits of Puritan
Divines Queries Slade - Eberhard Tappi of Luna-
Two Pagodas Frederick, Prince of Wales Westou :
Shirley, 5.

tations of St. Anthony," 7. REPLIES:

Arms of Slaughter, 9-John Freeth, "the Birmingham Poet," 10- The First Folio Shakespeare, 11 - Kylosbern, Ib. — Sir Walter Scott's Misquotations, 13 -Thomas Hudson, the London Song-writer-Bewick the Engraver Clarke's History of Wanting Hundred - Penmei-Defoe: "Mercurius Politicus": Mesuager's "Negotiations"- Byron Family - Origin of the Basques Theodore"- Curious Fashion: Strings worn in the Ear -Towns and Villages in the Weald of Kent having the Termination "den"-Sulla the Dictator, &c., 14. Notes on Books, &c.

"Palm Sunday chimes were chiming,
All gladsome thro' the air,

And village men and maidens

Knelt in the church at prayer,
When the Red Rose and the White Rose
In furious battle reel'd,

And yeomen fought Aike barons,*
And barons died ere yield."

Various names have been assigned to the battle, as "Saxton," "Palm Sunday Field," "Sherburn," "Saxtonfeld," and "Tawtonfeld"; but it is most generally known as the Battle of Towton. Be it observed, that Towton is a hamlet in the parish of Saxton, and no great distance from the market town of Tadcaster, which does not seem to have altered very much since those times.

The afternoon was lovely, and the more appreciated after the protracted winter aud cold spring which have marked this year: the apple-trees

The writer of this must have had in his mind Scott's

description of the Battle of Flodden, when

"Linked in the serried phalanx tight,

Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,
As fearlessly and well."

the country, and found much to interest in the commonest objects of nature; and let me not omit to mention, amongst our own poets, Thomson and Bloomfield, Tennyson and Wordsworth, who have all sung its praises.

The battle-field is easily found, lying about
half a mile from the little village of Towton;
and the battle was fought in a large meadow,
through which the little river Cock winds. Grass
grows in rich luxuriance there; and at this day
groups of wild dwarf rose-bushes are seen, tradi-
tionally said to have been planted on the mounds
under which the slain were buried: -
"There still wild roses growing-
Frail tokens of the fray;

And the hedgerow green bears witness
Of Towton Field that day."

The people in the neighbourhood firmly believe
that these rose-bushes will alone grow in the
Bloody Meadow," and that attempts to plant
them elsewhere have always been unsuccessful.

The Lancastrians drew up their forces southward of the village of Towton, and numbered sixty thousand; whilst the forces of the Yorkists, drawn ap opposite, were about forty-eight thousand; and the battle commenced at nine o'clock in the morning, the cloth-yard arrows flying like hail. A storm of snow and sleet falling, and driven by the wind in the faces of the Lancastrians, hindered their shooting with accuracy. The combat lasted, according to some authors, ten hours; but, according to others, towards three o'clock in the afternoon the Lancastrians began to give way. They were pursued by their foes, who gave no quarter, and driven through the little river Cock; and such numbers were slain there as to afford a bridge for the survivors to pass over. For several days afterwards the Cock and the Wharfe, into which it flows, are said to have run with blood. The number of the slain is given at 36,776; but this most likely includes those who fell on both sides, and not only in the battle but in the pursuit, and in the skirmish at Ferrybridge on the previous day.

The Cock is an insignificant stream, over which one can stride; but those who know how becks, and spring, may very easily imagine its swelling as they are called, can rise in Yorkshire, in winter to a great size from the melting snow. The meadow through which it flows must have been a fine place for the esquire to fly his hawks, as