the sanctuary, laden with the perfume of the flower-garden of Hampden's house, so that the porch and aisle were fragrant with the scent of mignonette

and clematis. Upon a young

tree planted, as the clerk told

6

us, near eighteen years past, by his own hands, to live when he was gone,' a robin was rehearsing its autumn song, at intervals, as if it were too early to begin, and yet time to have it ready. The day was changing; a soft misty rain. commenced, and rude gusts of wind swept through the trees, scattering the goldentinted leaves on the green grass. We were now within the porch that Hampden had so often entered; within the sanctuary in which he communed with his God! The pews of the church are low and open; there is no gallery, and the organ, a gift of the late Lord Buckinghamshire, is placed amongst the seats, nearly opposite the communion-table. It was a privilege to stand within the sacred temple where Hampden lies, uncenotaphed, but unforgotten; to know that we were sheltered by the same roof that covered the remains of the purest of England's patriots; the offspring of an unbroken descent from the Confessor; of a line famous in chivalry, and often entrusted with state services, yet sufficient of himself to stamp a name with the truest immortality, had all his progenitors been peasant-born. On the right hand, close to the communion-table, is the simple monument *

* The monument erected by Hampden to the memory of his wife is a plain black marble tablet in a simple frame of lighter marble, and is placed between the windows on the south wall of the chancel, close to the spot traditionally pointed out as his last resting-place.

inscribed with his own words to the memory of his wife; and within the rails his own remains were deposited; it was his own hand that traced the tribute to her virtues-the 'truely vertuous and pious,' the tender mother of nine hopeful children,'

"In her Pilgrimage

The staie and comfort of her neighbours,
The love and glory of a well-order'd family,
The delight and happiness of tender parents,
But a crowne of blessings to a husband

In a wife, to all an eternall paterne of goodnes

And cause of joye whilst shee was in her dissolution.'

Opposite to this monument in perpetuall testimony of conjugal love,' is a far more sumptuous tomb to the memory of a lesser John Hampden,* here described as xviiii. here

ditary lord of great Hampden,'
who, dying in 1754, bequeathed
his estates and name to the
Hon. Robert Trevor,' his kins-
man, by descent from Ruth,
daughter of the John Hampden.
Issue here failing, the heritage
passed to the children of another
daughter: the Hobarts, Earls of
Buckinghamshire, now own the
house and lands of the Patriot:
they own them, nothing more!
This tomb is

gorgeous with

*This monument is a characteristic example of the taste which prevailed during the last century in monumental decoration, when weeping children were so unsparingly used. In this instance we have one perched at each angle of the cenotaph. One holds a countryman's hat on a staff (an adaptation of the

classic cap of liberty), the other, a sealed roll (perhaps intended for Magna Charta).

armorial bearings! and contains in low relief a sculptured tablet, which describes the Patriot's fall on Chalgrove field.* A faded morion, with the crest, surmounts the tomb; and this is all that recals to us the name of Hampden in the place to which he has given eternal fame.

In memory of John Hampden, there is no monument of any kind in Hampden House, Hampden Church, or Hampden village! No single sentence has been written any where to say that here he lived, and here

was he laid in death; but for a memorial to the greatest man of a great period of British history, let us borrow an inscription from one of the humblest gravestones in the churchyard

'Praises on tombs are idly spent,

His good name is his monument ! '-

Yet what a host of memories were conjured up, as we stood in the chancel of that small village church, beside the vault which holds the ashes of the Patriot.

On the 25th of June, 1643,†, the body, without the soul, entered this

* This portion of the upper part of the tomb is given in our cut; it is well executed in white marble, but exhibits that inattention to costume which was prevalent in the last century. The stem of the genealogical tree, and the principal shield of arms, appear above the falling figure of the Patriot: this tree, laden with shields properly emblazoned, fills the larger part of the oval tablet, and being cut in white marble, stands in bold relief from the dark-veined marble which forms the substructure.

The following is extracted from the Register of Burials, Great Hampden, 1643. It was

church, and was interred inside this altar, where had been gathered the dust of so many of his progenitors. It had been removed hither from

Thame, the village in which he died, on the 24th of June, of the wound received at CHALGROVE, on the Sabbath morning of June 18, 1643.*

copied for us by the clerk, William Martin, to whose courtesy we have elsewhere made reference, and who deserves the highest praise for the neatness and order in which he keeps the church.

"1643. John Hampden, Esquire, Lord of Hampden, buried June 25. Robert Lenthall, Rector."

* Chalgrove field is about twelve miles from Oxford and ten from Thame. The field itself is a large open plain, intersected by four cross roads, as seen in the sketch. It was allotted in different apportionments some short time since, and the spot where the monument is erected was appropriated to Dr. Hampden, now Bishop of Hereford, a descendant of the Patriot. The monument is of brick, coated with stone. It is in an unfinished condition as far as the original design is concerned, which was, to have ornamented this pedestal with an obelisk seventeen feet high: omitted-for want of funds. As the pedestal now stands, it is about fifteen feet wide on each side. The east side has a sculptured medallion figure of Hampden, with his motto, Vestigia nulla retrorsum; the same motto with his arms on the west side; the south side is devoted to the names of those who subscribed to this memorial, and is dated June 18, 1843. The north side has a long inscription, setting forth that this stone was raised in reverence to his memory,' in the two hundredth year' from the day on which he received his death-wound. It is a poor and paltry affair; conferring a renown by no means enviable upon the wealthy noblemen and gentlemen who commenced a miserable monument and left it unfinished.

Hampden was seen for the first time turning his back upon the battle

field before the fight was done, 'a thing,' writes Clarendon, he never used to do;' hence it was concluded he was hurt.' He had been struck in the shoulder with two carabine balls, which breaking the bone, entered his body, and his arm hung powerless and shattered by his side.'t He left his friends and soldiers not at a time of victory, but in a moment of defeat; he left them to die, as was said by Sidney on a memorable occasion, for THE OLD CAUSE.'

A Carabineer.

Slowly riding, his head bending down, and his hands resting on his horse's neck,' his first impulse was to seek the village of Pyrton, the house in which, a high-hearted and hopeful man, he had wedded the wife of his affections thirty years before; but the brilliant Rupert-the mirror of chivalry, according to the Cavaliers, the Prince-robber, according to the Roundheads—with his fierce cavalry, interposed. In great pain and almost fainting 'he reached Thame, distant about ten miles from Chalgrove, and found shelter in the HOUSE OF ONE EZEKIEL BROWNE. His wounds were dressed, but he knew they were

* The carabine was a small gun slung at the back of a light horseman by a leathern belt which passed across the shoulders and had a hooked swivel at the end, sometimes fancifully ornamented, through which the barrel of the carabine passed, as shown in our cut; the men were armed with back and breast-plate, helmet and sword, and were named Carabineers from the principal weapon with which they were equipped. They are first mentioned in 1558, but became an important portion of the army in the Civil Wars.

As elsewhere observed, however, there is satisfactory evidence that the fatal wound was in the hand, from the bursting of his own pistol.

This interesting building is still pointed out by village tradition, and is represented in our woodcut as it now appears. It was formerly the Greyhound Inn, and is now divided into two shops, one a butcher's, the other an ironmonger's. The exigencies of modern residents have, in a great degree, interfered with its original features ; but its connection with one of England's purest patriots must ever invest its humble walls with interest. It is necessary to state,