ions of the Barons, founded on the dying
declaration of a French Lord, that when the kingdom was conquered he was
sworn to banish them as traitors, and to give their estates to some of his
own Nobles. Rather than suffer this, some of the Barons hesitated; others
even went over to King John.

It seemed to be the turning point of King John's fortunes, for, in his
savage and murderous course, he had now taken some towns and met with some
successes. But, happily for England and humanity, his death was near.
Crossing a dangerous quicksand, called the Wash, not very far from
Wisbeach, the tide came up and nearly drowned his army. He and his
soldiers escaped; but, looking back from the shore when he was safe, he
saw the roaring water sweep down in a torrent, overturn the wagons,
horses, and men that carried his treasure, and engulf them in a raging
whirlpool from which nothing could be delivered.

Cursing, and swearing, and gnawing his fingers, he went on to Swinestead
Abbey, where the monks set before him quantities of pears, and peaches,
and new cider--some say poison too, but there is very little reason to
suppose so--of which he ate and drank in an immoderate and beastly way. All
night he lay ill of a burning fever, and haunted with horrible fears. Next
day, they put him in a horse-litter, and carried him to Sleaford Castle,
where he passed another night of pain and horror. Next day, they carried
him, with greater difficulty than on the day before, to the castle of
Newark-upon-Trent; and there, on the eighteenth of October, in the
forty-ninth year of his age, and the seventeenth of his vile reign, was an
end of this miserable brute.

MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE.(5)

Book IX.--Initial Chapter.

Now that I am fairly in the heart of my story, these preliminary chapters
must shrink into comparatively small dimensions, and not encroach upon the
space required by the various personages whose acquaintance I have picked
up here and there, and who are now all crowding upon me like poor
relations to whom one has unadvisedly given a general invitation, and who
descend upon one simultaneously about Christmas time. Where they are to be
stowed, and what is to become of them all, Heaven knows; in the mean
while, the reader will have already observed that the Caxton family
themselves are turned out of their own rooms, sent a-packing, in order to
make way for the new comers.

And now that I refer to that r