RECRUIT.

For the Olio.

THE town of C- in Wiltshire, contains little that is attractive save its elegant church, of which enough has been already said in various topographical works. The Market-house has long been levelled with the ground, and the ancient cross was several years since torn from the spot it had occupied for so many centuries, and hurried by the Vandal who ordered its demolition, to an obscure place at no great distance, where a portion of it now stands an object of veneration to the few remaining townspeople whose respect for antiquity has not been entirely obliterated. But the tale we are, with the reader's permission, about to tell, does not relate to the antiquities of this obscure town; at some future period we may be tempted to give a few of the traditions connected with it in ruder times. Our present purpose is to detail an oc6-VOL. V.

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currence which took place there about twenty years since, and which would form an excellent subject for a modern drama.

From

At the period alluded to, there dwelt near the church, a young woman, who, if she was not so fair and faultless as heroines of romance are usually represented, was at least sufficiently handsome to be the toast of the whole town, and the adored object of a score of lusty young men of various fortunes. amidst this train of rustic gallants, she selected one of humble birth and slender worthy of that which others had sought means, but a youth whom she thought in vain-her love, ay, the love of one whose heart was a stranger to the coquetry practised by those of her sex upon whom fortune had been more lavish of her favours.

Her lover, whom we shall call Richard, was one whom nature had greatly favoured; tall, strong, and active, he was sufficiently protected from any personal attack that might be made upon him, by those who envied his happier lot. His acknowledged superiority in every athle

tic exercise rendered any thing like open hostility quite impracticable; and it was therefore determined by a few, who looked upon his happiness with a jaundiced eye, to thwart him by any possible means. Generous and unsuspecting, Richard saw not the cloud that was hanging over him; indeed, he had never once supposed that he had ever created an enemy. He had so far prevailed upon the parents of Mary, as to gain their consent to their union, which, it was settled, should take place on the following week.

Things were in this posture, when Richard was invited to join a party who were going a rook-shooting at some little distance from the town. Their sport was uninterrupted, and when over, the party repaired to a tavern for the purpose of spending the evening in mirth and harmony; but there was one of the company who saw, in this carouse, some faint hopes of success in his designs upon Mary. Richard had drank but little, yet it was sufficient to confuse and bewilder one who had but slight acquaintance with the alejug. Frank Wells, a young man of dissolute habits, observed this, and plied

him with more liquor, until he had reached that state which your toper calls blissful. It was nearly dark when they reached the town, and, as they entered it, a recruiting party, which had been sojourning there, were taking their evening march.

Frank Wells immediately commenced a glowing description of the life of a soldier, and painted in lively colours the chances of promotion which stood in the way of one who had the boldness to embark in such a life. But Richard was insensible to half that had passed, and shortly after, quitting his treacherous companions, hastened home, and throwing himself on his humble bed, was soon buried in a profound slumber. But how great was his surprise and horror, when he awoke in the morning, and discovered a bunch of narrow and gaudy-coloured ribbands fastened on his hat, the badge of a new recruit!

His heart sunk within him at the sight, and a flood of tears rushed down his face, which bore evident marks of the last night's carouse. He rushed into the town, in search of some of his companions of the preceding evening, and en

countered the recruiting party, just about to commence their rounds.

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"Ah, my fine fellow," said the Serjeant, you are prompt-we must rouse some of our new friends with tuck of drum-you want no such greeting."

"I do not, indeed," replied Richard, scarcely able to articulate; "I wish for an explanation of this cursed business," and he dashed his gaily trimmed hat on the ground.

"An explanation," cried the Serjeant, —“ Ah! ah! ah! my young yokel, an explanation-why, our Colonel couldn't ax for more. You're joking, master clod-hopper-you are one of us, and if you do not go quietly, we must compel you."

He attempted to seize Richard, who immediately laid him on his back, fled precipitately from the spot, and directing his flight towards the dwelling of his sweetheart, entered the house breathless and nearly exhausted.

"Mary," said he, as he strained her in his embrace," I have forsaken thee, and all I value in the world;-I am justly punished for my last night's folly." But few words were required to explain the whole affair, for which, however, there was little time left for lamenting. The shouts of those in pursuit told that concealment was necessary, and Mary, hurrying her lover out of the room, led him into an outhouse, where stood a large corn bin, Into this Richard instantly jumped, and scarcely had the lid been shut down, when the recruiting party were heard to enter the house. They were headed by Frank Wells, who was the most active in the search. Every corner was subjected to their scrutiny, but without success, when the malignant Frank proceeded to the outhouse and raised the lid of the corn bin. A desperate struggle instantly ensued, but Richard's great strength enabled him to overthrow his enemy; he rushed from the outhouse and made for the road. He flew towards the gate, which he cleared at one bound, and gained the road, when the soldiers, warned by the cries of Frank Wells, discovered his flight, and fired upon the fugitive. One shot merely grazed his side, but another took a more fatal direction, and lodged between the shoulders. Richard instantly fell bathed in blood, but rising again, he staggered towards the house, which he would have entered, but life was ebbing fast, and he sunk at the door, to which Mary had hurried upon hearing the report of fire

arms.

Who shall pretend to paint her horror ? Her lover fixed his dying eyes

MEMOIRS OF THE TOWER OF

LONDON.*

THIS very acceptable and instructive work is the joint performance of those able and active labourers in the field of ancient lore, Messrs. Britton and Brayley, and the task could not have been delegated to fitter hands. It is a clever and well-digested compilation, containing an immensity of information relative to this ancient Fortress, Palace, Prison, and Arsenal, that cannot fail to be valuable to every reader of English history, and especially to those whose limited means preclude them from possessing the expensive work of Bayley.

In the volume before us, our antiquaries have given us clear, but brief, accounts, arranged with proper attention to chronology, of all the historical events connected with this stronghold, that agitated the state in those rude and turbulent times, when the ambitious and powerful noble joined with the subject in stern rebellion against the ruling power.

Having said thus much of the contents, we will now transfer to our columns a few specimens from its pages, which contain a long tissue of vicissitudes, of success and dire misfortune:

At p. 21, we find the following curious particulars regarding the coronation of the ill-fated Richard the Second, and the insurrection of the rebellious Wat Tyler; a note to which seems to place beyond doubt the manner of the death of the daring rebel.

"The events connected with the Tower during the latter years of Edward's government are unimportant; but the accession of Richard the Second gave rise to some of the most memorable incidents recorded in its history. The festivities and pageantries attendant upon the Coronation, which had been conducted on a scale of the most extended magnificence,†

* Hurst, Chance and Co.

+ On the day of the Coronation, the King, clad in white robes, issued from the gates of the Tower, accompanied by an immense assemblage of nobles, knights, and esquires. The streets through which he passed were adorned with drapery, the conduits ran wine, and pageants were exhibited in all the prin cipai thoroughfares. Among the latter was a castle with four towers, stationed in Cheap side ; from two sides of this, "the wine ran forth abundantlie, and at the top stood a golden angel, holding a crown, so contrived that, when the King came near, he bowed down and presented it to him. In each of the towers was a beautiful virgin, of stature and age like to the King, apparelled in white vestures, the which blew in the King's face leaves of gold and flowers of gold counterfeit." On the approach of the cavalcade, the damsels took

were scarcely concluded, when an insurrection, headed by Wat Tyler, compelled the King, with his mother and several of the nobility, to seek immediate protection within the walls of that fortress, from which the monarch had shortly before proceeded to receive the crown, attended by every demonstration of the loyalty and attachment of his subjects.

"The insurgents assembled on Blackheath, sent a message to the King desiring a conference. Richard, acceding to their request, first heard mass in the Tower, and then sailed down the Thames towards Rotherhithe; but on approaching the shore, beheld such symptoms of rebellion and tumult, that he returned, without eyen effecting a parley. The infuriated mob then advanced to London, and after committing every species of enormities, quartered themselves in and near St. Katherine's Hospital, and invested the Tower, "at times hooting as loud as if the devils were in them." The besieged held a council, wherein Sir William Walworth, the intrepid mayor of London, recommended a sally while the rebels were asleep and drunk; but this measure being deemed too desperate, the King proposed to meet them at Mile-end, and hear their grievances. He had, however, scarcely quitted the gates for that purpose, when a party of the insurgents, who had been previously concealed, gained adınittance into the fortress; and after beheading the Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Robert Hales and others, who had sought refuge in the chapel, they proceeded to commit other, though lesser enormities; pillaged the royal apartments, and offered the grossest insults to the Queen mother. The happy termination of the conference between Richard and the rebels is fully detailed by the English historians, as are also the circumstances which led to the death of Wat Tyler, and the final suppression of the insurrection." ' §

cups of gold, and, filling them with wine at the spouts of the castle, presented them to the King and his nobles.

It is stated by Stowe, in his Survey of London, that although there was in the Tower a garrison of 1200 men, they were so panicstruck, that they offered no opposition to the rebels, manie of whom went into the Kynge's Privie Chamber, and plaied the wantons, sitting, lying, and sporting them on the King's bed. And that which is much more saucily, invited the King's mother to kiss with them.'

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The following account of this transaction is taken from "A Chronicle of London, from 1089 to 1483:"-" And on the morwe after, that is to say Fryday, and thanne on the Satirday after Corpus Cristi day, the kyng anon after rood into Smythfeld, and William Walworth thanne beynge maire of London, Sir Robert Knolles and also aldermen and other