specimen or two. In the mean time let the
full harvest moon wonder at them as they lie turned up after lying hid
2400 revolutions of hers. Think of that warm 14th of June when the
Battle was fought, and they fell pell-mell: and then the country people
came and buried them so shallow that the stench was terrible, and the
putrid matter oozed over the ground for several yards: so that the cattle
were observed to eat those places very close for some years after. Every
one to his taste, as one might well say to any woman who kissed the cow
that pastured there.

Friday, 23rd. We have dug at a place, as I said, and made such a trench
as would hold a dozen fellows: whose remains positively make up the
mould. The bones nearly all rotted away, except the teeth which are
quite good. At the bottom lay the _form_ of a perfect skeleton: most of
the bones gone, but the pressure distinct in the clay: the thigh and leg
bones yet extant: the skull a little pushed forward, as if there were
scanty room. We also tried some other reputed graves, but found nothing:
indeed it is not easy to distinguish what are graves from old marl-pits,
etc. I don't care for all this bone-rummaging myself: but the
identification of the graves identifies also where the greatest heat of
the battle was. Do you wish for a tooth?

As I began this antiquarian account in a letter to you, so I have
finished it, that you may mention it to my Papa, who perhaps will be
amused at it. Two farmers insisted on going out exploring with me all
day: one a very solid fellow, who talks like the justices in Shakespeare:
but who certainly was inspired in finding out this grave: the other a
Scotchman full of intelligence, who proposed the flesh-soil for manure
for turnips. The old Vicar, whose age reaches halfway back to the day of
the Battle, stood tottering over the verge of the trench. Carlyle has
shewn great sagacity in guessing at the localities from the vague
descriptions of contemporaries: and his short _pasticcio_ of the battle
is the best I have seen. {137} But he will spoil all by making a demi-
god of Cromwell, who certainly was so far from wise that he brought about
the very thing he fought to prevent--the restoration of an unrestricted
monarchy.

_To S. Laurence_.

NASEBY, _Septr_. 28/42.

MY DEAR LAURENCE,

I am sorry you did not come, as the weather has become fine, and this
wild wide country looks well on these blowing days, with flying shadows