it is of no
great age, and let us call to mind the picture which Waller painted,
engravings of which used to adorn so many Oxford rooms: "The Empty
Saddle." For, standing in the neglected garden we may see the very
terrace and the angle of the house which were drawn so beautifully by
him. Then, as we stroll through the deserted grounds towards the
peaceful Windrush, where the great trout are still sucking down the poor
short-lived may-flies, let us try to recollect what manner of men used
to walk in these peaceful gardens in the old, stirring times.

Little or nothing is known of the monastery which doubtless existed
somewhere hereabouts prior to the dissolution in Henry VIII.'s reign.

Up to the Conquest the manor of Burford was held by Saxon noblemen. It
is mentioned in Doomsday Book as belonging to Earl Aubrey; but the first
notable man who held it was Hugh le Despencer. This man was one of
Edward II.'s favourites, and was ultimately hung, by the queen's
command, at the same time that Edward was committed to Kenilworth
Castle. Burford remained with his descendants till the reign of Henry
V., when it passed by marriage to a still more notable man, in the
person of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the "kingmaker." Space does
not allow us to romance on the part that this great warrior played in
the history of those times; Lord Lytton has done that for us in his
splendid book, "The Last of the Barons." Suffice it to say that he left
an undying fame to future generations, and fell in the Wars of the Roses
when fighting at the battle of Barnet against the very man he had set on
the throne. The almshouses he built for Burford are still to be seen
hard by the grand old church.

"For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his brow?
Lo, now my glory's smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and of all my lands,
Is nothing left me, but my body's length!"

3 _King Henry VI_., V. ii.

In the reign of Henry VIII. this manor, having lapsed to the Crown, was
granted to Edmund Harman, the royal surgeon. Then in later days Sir John
Fortescue, Chancellor of the Exchequer to Queen Elizabeth, got hold of
it, and eventually sold it to Sir Lawrence Tanfield, a great judge in
those times. The latter was buried "at twelve o'clock in the Night" in
the church of Burford; and there is a very handsome aisle