tinue his march to London, much encouraged by the indecision of the Parliamentary leaders, and by overtures of a reconciliation which were made to him. Such an anticipation of peace prevailed that a deputation from the Parliament waited on the king at Colnbrook, to submit a proposition of terms. Prince Rupert, however, heedless of the ill-policy of aggression advanced to Hounslow, and prevailing on Charles to support him, made a dashing attack on Brentford-spelt "Brainford" by Rushworth-where lay two of the best regiments of the Parliament-Hampden's and Lord Brook's. Ludlow maintains that Rupert's object was to seize Hammersmith, in which was Lord Essex's artillery. The town of Brentford was taken, and several officers of the Parliament, among whom was one Major Quarles-probably a relative of the author of "The Emblems"-lost their lives. The Royalists claim to have taken five hundred prisoners, fifteen guns, eleven colours, and a large store of ammunition. The advantage, however, gained, in a military view, was utterly disproportionate to the loss sustained in the diplomatic point of view. The Parliament asserted that its proffer of negotiations bound the king to suspend hostilities, but there does not seem to have been any engagement on the point. The citizens of London, ever somewhat of fighters, despatched their train-bands, in support of Essex, to Turnham Green, and the king, halting between two opinions, retired to Reading.

The siege of Litchfield by the Parliament in 1643 has acquired from the pen of an eloquent divine more distinction perhaps than its military importance warrants. The episode of the death of

Lord Brook, by the hands of "Dumb Dyott," dwindles down in the pages of Clarendon to the bare mention of the fact that "sitting in his chamber, and the window open, he (Lord Brook) was from the wall of the close, by a common soldier, shot with a musket in the eye, of which he instantly died."

It would be unjust to pass without notice the attempts at reconciliation which from time to time emanated from the Parliament. The following are the principal conditions submitted to the king at Oxford in the spring of the year 1643, at a time when the fortunes of the Parliament were not markedly in the ascendant.

That the king should disband his army and return to the Parliament; that he should leave delinquents to trial, and papists to be disarmed; that he should pass a bill for abolishing bishops and such other bills as should be presented for reformation; recusants to adjure papacy, to remove malignant counsellors, to settle the militia as the Parliament desired; to prefer to offices such as the Parliament should name; to take in all that were put out of commissions of peace; a bill to vindicate Lord Kimbolton and the five

members, and to enter into an alliance for the recovery of the palatinate, these conditions, however moderate in the estimation of a Parliament, were such as no king could accept, and retain aught of royalty worth having. Commissioners from the Scots attended at Oxford at this time to treat for peace, and, probably, there was some sincerity and much hope of accommo dation attending these efforts; but, to borrow a phrase from the Americans, "The common platform was wanting," and the quarrel was fought out to the bitter end.

In dealing with the military operations distinguishing the Civil Wars, we find a parallel between the minor passages of arms in internal strife and those which marked the progress of the campaign in the Peninsula. Some half-dozen battles are known to the nonmilitary reader, while the attentive student finds large drafts made on his attention by apparently unimportant skirmishes. For brevity's sake I purpose appending a chronological list of the principal events with as little comment as may be.

On the 2nd February, 1643, Prince Rupert got possession of Circincester, after a smart assault. April 11th, he recaptured Litchfield. April 27th, Reading surrendered to Lord Essex. June 18th-the anniversary of Waterloo-fell John Hampden, in a skirmish near Henley with Prince Rupert's dragoons. It seems that his death resulted from the accidental discharge of his own pistol. On June 30th, Fairfax, who had met with considerable successes in the north, was routed on Atherton Moor by the Earl, better known by his subsequent title, the Marquis of Newcastle.

In the West of England the king's forces, under Hopton, fought an undecided action at Lansdowne, near Bath, with Sir William Waller. In this engagement fell Sir Bevil Grenville, of Cornwall, one of the king's most devoted adherents. After the action, the cavalry made for Oxford, and Hopton, with the infantry, retired to Devizes, the surrender of which he was meditating when the advance of Lords Wilmot and Carnarvon induced Waller to draw off from his position to give the relieving army battle on Rounderay Down. Hazelrigg, with the Parliament's cavalry, charged up-hill, and was severely handled by Wilmot. Waller's foot similarly fell into disorder before the charge of the royalist's horse, and the attack of Hopton's infantry, lately beleagured in the town, completed his discomfiture. In this action Wilmot took four guns and many prisoners. The wreck of the beaten army fled to Bristol, which soon after yielded to Rupert. On the 10th of August the prince commenced the siege of Gloucester, one of the most memorable of the war. "Women and maids,' we read, "wrought all one afternoon in the little mead fetching in turf in the face of the

king's horse.' Dr. Chillingworth, a doughty controversialist, proved himself a good member of the church militant by his device of military engines borrowed from the Romans. One grenade, or, as we should say, shell, weighing sixty pounds, fell into an open street, but the fuse was extinguished by a pail of water thrown by a woman. It was indeed a brilliant contest, the description of which, even in the prim pages of Rushworth, reminds one of a chapter from Froissart. Now did the ancient spirit of London speak, and to some purpose. Essex got together an army, to which the city con. tributed five regiments and eleven guns, and with these he raised the siege, which had lasted twenty-six days, and had reduced their garrison to the last barrel of powder. This success wonderfully elevated the courage of the Parliamentary party, whose forces had been much weakened by sickness and desertion. Snapping up Cirencester by a coup de main, the victorious leader pursued his homeward way through the northern part of Wiltshire. As soon as the king ascertained the route taken, he made all speed to intercept him. Prince Rupert succeeded in bringing the rear-guard to action with some advantage to himself at Aldbourne Chase, losing in the engagement a French diplomatist, the Marquis de Vieuville, who, with more zeal than discretion, had taken service with the king. On the 20th of September-anniversary of the Alma—both armies met at Newbury, the king's forces having the advantage of position. The fighting lasted with greater or less vigour from six in the morning till far into night; the cavalry of the one side, and the infantry of the other, proved the better troops of the several armies. It seemed that if not on all points victorious, Essex extricated himself with great dexterity from a dangerous position, the king drawing off his forces under cover of the night.

Clarendon is quite enthusiastic in his praise of the conduct of the London regiments under Essex, who, he says, "behaved themselves to wonder, and were, in truth, the preservation of that (the Parliament) army that day." Somewhat harrassed by attacks upon his rear, the Lord-General made good his retreat to London, abandoning Reading to the king. In this action fell Lucius, Lord Falkland, than whom no more magnanimous soldier or patriot donned armour on either side. His character seems a reproduction of that of Sydney, the beau ideal of scholarly chivalry. Even his care that "if he should be killed in the fight his body should not be found in foul linen" bespeaks the sensitive fastidiousness of the high-bred gentleman. From an old book (title-page wanting) in my possession, I cull the following anecdote, apropos of the substantial failure of the campaign :-"Some time before the battle, the king and court, being at Oxford, drew the sortes virgilliana-a kind of dipping for luck into the pages of Virgil. The king's passage was from the

fourth book of "The Eneid," which passage, Mr. Cowley, at his request, though ignorant of his motives, thus translated :—

"By a bold people's stubborn arms opprest,
Forced to forsake the land which he possest,
Torn from his dearest son; let him in vain
Beg help, and see his friends unjustly slain;
Let him to bold, unequal terms submit,
In hopes to save his Crown, and lose both it
And life at once. Untimely let him die,
And on an open stage unburied lie."

WAITING FOR MY HUSBAND

Ir is not my purpose to relate at any length the circumstances which made it necessary for me, a short time ago, to spend the best part of a whole day in the waiting-room of one of the large railway stations of the metropolis. Enough to say that having driven there in the morning from a friend's house in the neighbourhood of London, I found awaiting me at the station, not my husband, whom I had expected to meet, but a message from him to the effect that he could not join me so soon as he had anticipated. "Business of importance would detain him for some hours, perhaps until the evening." I was to amuse myself as best I could in the meanwhile.

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This news was disappointing, to say the least of it. We were to have gone together by an early train to the Sussex coast, there to spend what is technically termed a clergyman's week," and now, by this untoward event, we might lose one whole day of our short holiday. But there was no help for it. I must wait for my husband-the only question for me to settle was, how was I to amuse myself in the meanwhile? Two courses were open to me: to stay where I was, or to hire a cab, and drive about the town in search of entertainment. For several reasons I decided against the latter proceeding. I was alone, and a stranger in London; it was "out of season;" moreover it was a dull, chill day in autumn, and the rain was pouring down in a steady, uncompromising fashion. The fire in the waiting-room was burning brightly, and an arm-chair, which had been drawn near it, looked very inviting. The worst that could happen to me here would be to be a little bored with waiting, and against such a possibility I had happily some resources. In my travelling-bag was the last number of St. James's Magazine, with some of its pages still uncut. Other food, too, I had there of a less intellectual description, for my late host had been quite "royal" in his injunctions to his wife "not to let poor Nelly starve ;" and for my fingers I had the feminine luxury of work. It was hard, if thus provided, I could not manage to amuse myself till such a time as my husband should arrive; and so I took possession of the arm-chair, which would probably be my head-quarters for some hours to come, in a philosophical, if not a very cheerful frame of mind.

After a short interval of perfect idleness, I took out my magazine, and began to read; but very soon I found that even under the most favourable circumstances, the waiting-room of a large London terminus is not a good place for enjoying literature, even of a light description. There is too much of confusion and excitement to allow of any concentration of thought. The ever