Born: Albert I, emperor
of Germany, 1289.
Died: Philip I, king of
France, 1108, Melun; Sebastian, king of Portugal,
killed near Tangiers, 1578; Thomas Stukely,
adventurer, 1578; Pope Urban VIII, 1644;
Andrew
Marvell, poet and politician, 1678, London; Benjamin
Robins, celebrated mathematician and experimenter on
projectiles, 1751, Madras; Augustus William Ernesti,
editor of Livy, 1801, Leipsic; Anna Selina Storace,
favourite singer, 1814, London; William Wilberforce,
philanthropist, 1833, London; Dr. Thomas Dick, author
of various scientific works, 1857, Broughty Ferry,
Forfarshire.
Feast day: St. Martha,
virgin, sister of Mary and Lazarus. Saints Simplicius
and Faustinus, brothers, and their sister Beatrice,
martyrs, 303. St. Olaus, king of Sweden, martyr. St.
Olaus or Olave, king of Norway, martyr, 1030. St.
William, bishop of St. Brieuc, in Brittany, confessor,
about 1234.
DISAPPEARANCE OF DON SEBASTIAN OF PORTUGAL
The students of modern
European history, and the readers of Anna Maria
Porter's novels, are well aware of the romantic
circumstances under which Don Sebastian, king of
Portugal, disappeared from the face of the earth in
1578. This enthusiastic young kind he was only
two-and-twenty�chose to conduct the best military
strength of his country into Marocco, in order to put
down a usurping sovereign of that country; an
expedition utterly extravagant and foolish, against
which all his best friends counselled him in vain. He
fought a desperate battle with the Moors at Alcazar,
performed prodigies of valour, and was nevertheless so
thoroughly defeated, that it is said scarcely fifty of
his army escaped alive. A body, said to be his, was
rendered up by the Moors, and interred at Belem; but
the fact of his death, nevertheless, remained
doubtful. His countrymen, who admired and loved him,
considered him as having mysteriously disappeared, and
an idea took possession of them that he would by and
by reappear and resume his throne.
Strange to say, this notion
continued in vigour after the expiration of the time
within which the natural life of Sebastian must have
been circumscribed; indeed, it became a kind of
religious belief, which passed on from one generation
of Portuguese to another, and has even survived to
very recent times. In the Times, December 1825,
it is stated as a singular species of infatuation,
that many persons residing in Brazil, as well as
Portugal, still believe in the coming of Sebastian.
Some of these old visionaries will go out, wrapped in
their large cloaks, on a windy night, to watch the
movements of the heavens; and frequently if an
exhalation is seen flitting in the air, resembling a
fallen star, they will cry out, "There he comes!"
Sales of horses and other things are sometimes
effected, payable at the coming of King Sebastian. It
was this fact that induced Juliet, when asked what he
would be able to do with the Portuguese, to answer:
"What can I do with a people who were still waiting
for the coming of the Messiah and King Sebastian?"'
THOMAS STUKELY
The romantic career of this
extraordinary adventurer has furnished materials for
the novelist, dramatist, and poet. He was of a good
family in the west of England; and a relative,
probably brother, of the Sir Lewis Stukely, sheriff of
Devonshire, who arrested
Sir Walter Raleigh. His
father is said to have been a wealthy clothier or
manufacturer of woollen cloths. This being the most
lucrative trade of the period, requiring large capital
to carry it on, the clothiers were considered as
gentle-men, and allowed the privilege of wearing coat-armour.
Stukely's place of birth is doubtful. The long popular
ballad on him commences thus:
In the west of England,
Born there was, I understand,
A famous gallant in his days,
By birth a worthy clothier's son;
Deeds of wonder hath he done,
To purchase him a long and lasting praise.'
But in the drama ascribed to
George Peele, entitled
The Battle of Alcazar, he is represented saying:
Thus Stukely, slain with
many a deadly stab,
Dies in these desert fields of Africa.
Hark, friends! and, with the story of my life,
Let me beguile the torment of my death.
In England's London, lordings, was I born,
On that brave bridge, the bar that thwarts the
Thames.'
Other accounts say that
Stukely was a natural son of Henry VIII; and again, it
is stated that he was the son of an English knight, by
an Irish mother of the regal race of MacMurrough, and
he certainly had family connections with the principal
nobility of Ireland. It is certain, also, that he was
bred a merchant, and acquired an immense fortune by
marrying the daughter of an Alderman Curtis. This
lady, whose fortune supplied Stukely's inordinate
extravagance, represented to him one day that he
'ought to make more of her.' 'I will,' he replied,
'make as much of thee, believe me, as it is possible
for any man to do;' and he kept his word, in one sense
at least, for having dissipated all her fortune, he
stripped her of even her wearing apparel before he
finally left her.
Sir Walter Scott says, that
this 'distinguished gallant' ruffled it at the court
of Queen Elizabeth with Raleigh, and the best of the
time. And it would seem that his inordinate pride,
vanity, and ambition were considered an amusement,
rather than an insult to the court. His first, but
abortive enterprise, was to found a kingdom for
himself in Florida; and he presumed to tell Elizabeth,
that he would rather be the independent sovereign of a
molehill, than the highest subject of the greatest
monarch in Christendom. At another time, he said, in
hearing of the queen, that he was determined to be a
prince before he died. 'I hope,' ironically observed
Elizabeth, 'that you will let us hear from you, when
you are settled in your principality.' 'I will write
unto your majesty,' Stukely replied. 'And how will you
address me'?' she asked. 'Oh! in the style of a
prince,' the adventurer with great coolness replied.
'To our dear sister!'
Stukely, having squandered the
greater part of his wealth, went to Ireland in 1563,
with the apparent intention of settling in that
kingdom. He soon obtained considerable influence over
Shane O'Neill, the most
powerful of the native chieftains, and was employed by
the government to negotiate with him. When Shane
defeated the Hebridean Scots at Ballycastle, Stukely
was with the Irish chief, and there is every
probability that it was by his generalship the victory
was gained. Stukely applied for high office in
Ireland, but only obtained the seneschalship of
Wexford. During his Irish career, he never completely
gave up his character of merchant; he still retained
ships, which, under the guise of peaceful traders,
committed infamous piracies. These depredations being
at last traced to Stukely, he sailed to Spain, and
assuming to be a person of great consequence, was well
received at the Spanish court.
There did Tom Stukely
glitter all in gold,
Mounted upon his jennet, white as snow,
Shining as Phoebus in King Philip's court;
There, like a lord, famous Don Stukely lived.'
From Spain, Stukely went to
Rome, where he was also well received; and at the
great naval battle of Lepanto, gained by Don John of
Austria over the Turks, he commanded one of the papal
ships. And as Taylor, the Water-poet, in his
Church's Deliverance, tells us:
Rome's malice and Spain's
practice still concur
To vex and trouble blest Elizabeth;
With Stukely they combine to raise new stirs;
And Ireland-bragging Stukely promiseth
To give unto the pope's brave bastard son,
James Boncompagno, an ambitious boy;
And Stukely from the pope a prize hath won,
A holy peacock's tail (a proper toy):
But Stukely was in Mauritania slain,
In that great battle at Alcazar fought.'
Gregory XIII, having created
Stukely Baron Ross, Viscount Murrough, Earl of
Wexford, Marquis of Leinster, and Duke of Ireland,
supplied him with a small army of 800 men, with which
our adventurer sailed from Ostia, with the intention
of conquering Ireland, and annexing it to the pope's
dominions. Calling at Lisbon on his way, he found
Sebastian, king of Portugal, on the point of sailing
with a large force for the invasion of Marocco. Being
invited to join this expedition, the chivalrous spirit
of Stukely at once assented�the rest is a matter of
history. Though Stukely was a traitor and a pirate,
his dashing, gallant, fearless career has caused him
to be remembered, when many a better man has sunk into
oblivion. The ballad, entitled
The Life and Death of the Famous Lord Stukely,
was commonly sold by pedlers in the writer's boyhood;
it thus describes Stukely's last and fatal
battle-field:
'Upon this day of honour,
Each man did spew his banner,
Morocco and the king of Barbary,
Portugal and all his train,
Bravely glittering on the plain,
And gave the onset there most valiantly.
Bloody was the slaughter,
Or rather wilful murder,
Where sixseore thousand fighting-men were slain.
Three kings within this battle died,
With forty dukes and earls beside,
The like will never more be fought again.'
Besides Peek's drama, already
mentioned, there was another play published in 1605,
entitled The Famous History of the Life and Death
of Captain Thomas Stukely: and our hero is thus
noticed in Heywood's drama of If you know not Me,
you know Nobody:
That renowned battle,
Swift Fame desires to carry round the world,
The battle of Alcazar; wherein two kings,
Besides this king of Barbary,
was slain, King of Morocco, and of Portugal,
With Stukely, that renowned Englishman,
That had a spirit equal to a king,
Made fellow with these kings in warlike strife,
Honoured his country, and concluded life.'
THE GOOD WILBERFORCE
An appellation which was never
more worthily bestowed. The century can boast of
greater politicians and abler men; but none ingrafted
himself so peculiarly in the affections of the
masses�who were ever ready to trust his measures,
because of the certainty they felt that he acted from
the highest principles. His flow of words, so classic
and pure in their arrangement, added to a remarkably
sweet voice�so beautiful, that he was called 'the
Nightingale of the House of Commons '�made him a very
persuasive orator. Not less than forty members were
influenced by his speech on Lord Melville's
prosecution.
He was born in the High
Street, Hull, where his ancestors had long carried on
a successful trade, and educated at Rochlington, and
then at St. John's College, Cambridge, where his
life-long friendship with
William
Pitt and Dr. Milner commenced. In their
company, he travelled on the continent, at which time
the religious convictions he afterwards professed were
fully formed, as expressed in the work he published�A
Practical View of Christianity. Only a few weeks
after attaining his majority, he was elected member
for his native town, and for forty-five years he was
never without a seat in the House, exercising there
the greatest influence of any one not in office:
supporting Catholic emancipation and parliamentary
reform; the abolishing of lotteries and of
climbing-boys; and last, not least, the great object
of his life�the abolition of the slave trade.
It was through the persuasion
of the venerable Clarkson that he first turned his
attention to this subject; and at a dinner given by
Bennet Langton, he
consented to join the society which had been
established for the purpose of carrying out the
scheme. He brought the matter before parliament in a
most eloquent speech in May 1789, declaring that
38,000 negroes were annually imported to our West
Indian colonies. Year after year was the unpopular
bill brought forward by its unwearied advocate, and
with ever-lessening majorities. Out of the House,
Granville, Sharp, Clarkson, Macaulay, Stephen, and
many others were working with all their strength. The
Irish members joined the cause; but seventeen years
passed, and it was not until the death of
Pitt that,
on the motion of Mr.
Fox,
the immediate abolition of the slave trade was carried
by a majority of 114 to 15. How enviable must have
been the feelings at that moment of him who had
devoted his whole energies to so sacred and humane a
cause!
Four times he had been elected
member for the county of York; but in the year 1807,
he encountered a most powerful competition from the
two great families of Fitzwilliam and Lascelles. Such
a period of excitement has seldom been seen in
electioneering annals. Party-spirit was at its
highest; Mr. Pitt had, some little time before his
death, offended the cloth-manufacturers of the West
Riding; they were, in those days, hand-loom weavers,
each possessing his own little freehold, and to a man
they declared for the Whig interest. For fifteen days
the poll was carried on at York, whither the voters
had to be conveyed in wagons and coaches as best they
might from the more distant places; and thousands
walked many miles to vote, making the election
expenses most serious for the members. A large
collection was made for Mr. Wilberforce, and from the
first his seat was sure. Eleven thousand votes placed
him at the head of the poll, whilst the other two each
numbered 10,000, the largest number of votes ever
given at an election; but Lord Milton secured the
triumph to the Whigs. Many were squeezed to death in
the polling-booths. Riots were daily expected in
Leeds, the streets were filled with the mob, and the
appearance of a man with the Tory colours made the
mayor order out the military. This was the last time
Mr. Wilberforce stood for Yorkshire; at the next two
elections, he chose the borough of Bramber, and he
accepted the Chiltern Hundreds in 1825.
In 1797, he married the eldest
daughter of Isaac Spooner,
Esq., of Elmdon House, and found in his domestic life
a happy relaxation from political fatigues. His
fondness for children made him their playful and
joyous companion; whilst his conversation was so
pleasing and varied, that he was as much at home with
deep-thinking senators as with the gravest divines,
and never forgot to give the truest consolation to the
poor, the sufferer, or the mourner. Though he married
a lady of large fortune, his latter days were
impoverished by the immense expenses of his Yorkshire
elections and unfortunate speculations; whilst the
loss of his younger daughter, to whom he was fondly
attached, inflicted upon him a wound which he never
recovered during the few months he survived her.
He had directed his funeral to
be conducted in the quietest manner; but the most
eminent statesmen entreated his family to allow a
public ceremony in Westminster Abbey, where he rests
close to his old friends, Pitt, Canning, and Fox. The
large meeting which was held in York the same year,
for paying a suitable tribute to the memory of one who
had represented the county for thirty years, resulted
in the establishment of a School for the Blind.
AQUA
TUFANIA
On the 29th of July 1717,
Addison, as secretary of state, addressed a letter to
the Commissioners of Customs in England, requiring
them to take measures for checking the introduction of
a poisoned liqueur of which the British envoys at
Naples and Genoa had sent home accounts. It appears
from the communications of these gentlemen, that this
liqueur, called Aqua Tufania, from the Greek woman who
invented it, was introduced in large quantities into
Italy, and also in part distilled there, and was
extensively used as a poison. It was stated that six
hundred persons had been destroyed by it at Naples,
and there had been many punished capitally for selling
and administering it. The culprits engaged in the
making and sale of the liquor pretended a religious
and conscientious object�they desired to keep the
world in ease and quiet, by furnishing husbands with
the means of getting quit of troublesome wives,
fathers of unruly sons, a man of his enemy, and so
forth. The Inquisitors of State, not entering at all
into these views, used the strictest measures to put
down the Aqua Tufania, but apparently with only
partial success.
Such cases as that of the
Marchioness
Brinvilliers �which are far from being
rare�we may remember that of
Catherine Wilson in
1862�shew that when an apparently secret and safe
means of murder by poison can be obtained, there is
that in human nature that will put it to use. It would
almost appear that, after one or two successes, a sort
of fascination or mania takes possession of the
experimenter; and victims are at length struck down,
from hardly any motive beyond that of gratifying a
morbid feeling. Indulgence in a wickedness so great,
and at the same time so cowardly, certainly presents
human nature in one of its least amiable aspects.
RISE
IN THE PRICE OF RUE AND WORMW00D
On the 29th of July 1760, a
rumour arose in London�no one could afterwards tell
how�to the effect that the plague had broken out in
St. Thomas's Hospital! Commerce, notoriously, has no
bowels; and Adam Smith justifies it for its visceral
deficiency. Next morning, the price of rue and
wormwood, in Covent Garden Market, had risen forty per
cent! The authorities saw the necessity of an instant
contradiction to the rumour. They put an advertisement
in the public journals:
'Whereas the town has been
alarmed with a false and wicked report that the
plague is broke out in St. Thomas's Hospital: we,
the underwritten (in pursuance of an order of the
grand committee of the governors, held this day), do
hereby certify that the said report is absolutely
without foundation; and that there are no other
diseases amongst the patients than what are usual in
this and all other hospitals.
(Signed.) THOMAS MILNER, M.
AKENSIDE, ALEXANDER RUSSELL, JOHN HADLEY, physicians
to St. Thomas's Hospital; T. BAKER, BENJAMIN COWELL,
THOMAS SMITH, surgeons to the said hospital; GEORGE
WHITFIELD, apothecary to the said hospital.'
It may be remarked, that the
M. Akenside here named is much better remembered by
the world as a poet (Pleasures of Imagination) than as
a physician.
St Thomas's Hospital�a
magnificent establishment, with lecture-theatres, a
dissecting-room, and other accommodations for medical
teaching is now, alas! no more, having been taken down
in 1862, in consequence of its purchase by the Croydon,
Brighton, and South-Eastern Railway Companies. By
these corporations a mere angle of the hospital
property was required for the railway line proposed to
be extended to Charing Cross; and the governors
obtained the insertion of a clause in the act,
empowering them to insist on the purchase of the
entire hospital by the companies, if they so pleased.
It was a reasonable exaction, for the noise of the
passing trains could not have failed to be hurtful to
the patients. The companies bowed to the claim, but
were startled when the sum of �750,000 was demanded
for the hospital. On the matter being submitted, the
sum of �296,000 was awarded, being considerably less,
as is understood, than what might have been obtained
on a reasonable private negotiation with the company.
The hospital thus lost a site in which it was
eminently useful, and for a compensation which may
prove hardly sufficient to replace it in some one
probably less advantageous. The association of the
institution with rue and wormwood a century before
seems to have been ominous.
LEGEND OF THE GREEN LADY OF THORPE HALL
Hard by the neat old town of
Louth, in Lincolnshire, which lies nestling at the
foot of the famous Wolds, and is noted for possessing
one of the most beautiful parish churches in the
kingdom, stands Thorpe Hall, all old mansion,
charmingly situated amidst most delightful scenery,
and connected with which is an old legend but
comparatively little known.
It appears that the elder
branch of the ancient family of Bolles, or Bolle,
settled at this Thorpe Hall, and at Haugh, a small
village near the town of Alford, also in Lincolnshire,
many members of it lying buried in both Louth and
Haugh churches. The earliest mention of any monumental
inscription respecting this family, in either of these
churches, is of Richard Bolle, of Haugh, who married,
1stly, a daughter of Sir William Skypwith, of Ormesby,
Knight, Lincolnshire; 2ndly, a daughter of � Risbye,
Esq., of Yorkshire; and 3rdly, a daughter of � Hutton,
Esq., of Cambridgeshire. He served the office of
sheriff of the county of Lincoln, in 4th Edward VI and
11th Elizabeth. He had by his first wife a son,
Charles, and four daughters; and by his second wife,
two sons. Charles Bolle, Esq., his eldest son, had
four wives; he died in the lifetime of his father, in
1590, and was buried in Haugh church, where, on the
outside of the chancel, is a mural monument of marble,
surrounded with the arms of Bolle, and those of his
four wives, with a somewhat lengthy inscription in
Latin.
His only son and heir, Sir
John Bolle, of Thorpe Hall,
Knight, lived in the reigns of Elizabeth and James,
and was celebrated as well for the gallantry with
which he signalised himself as an officer in the army,
in the memorable expedition against Cadiz, in 1596, as
for his activity, bravery, and good conduct in
Ireland. He commanded at the taking of the castles of
Donolong and Lifford, during the administration of the
Earl of Essex, by whom he was appointed governor of
Kinsale. Queen Elizabeth conferred upon him the honour
of knighthood after his return from Cadiz; and it is
in connection with this gallant knight, and his
exploits at this place, that the legend of The Green
Lady has its origin.
Tradition assures us that,
amongst the prisoners taken at Cadiz, it fell to the
lot of Sir John Bolle to take charge of a lady of
extraordinary beauty, and of distinguished family and
great wealth. This lady the noble knight treated with
the care and tenderness which was the right of her
sex, by endeavouring to soften and alleviate the heavy
weary hours of her captivity. This generous care
naturally evoked feelings of gratitude, and these
ultimately warmed into love. This resulted in her
throwing at the feet of the warrior her riches and her
person, and such was her ardent passion, that, when
released, she entreated him to permit her to accompany
him to England as his page. But the gallant knight had
a wife at home, and neither the charms of the
beautiful Spaniard, nor the powerful influence of her
gold, could prevail. Like a true knight, therefore, he
returned whither duty and honour alike called him, and
the beautiful and inconsolable lady retired to a
nunnery, there to spend the remainder of her days in
sorrow and seclusion.
On Sir John Bolle's departure
from Cadiz, the devoted Spaniard sent, as presents to
his wife, a profusion of jewels and other valuables,
amongst which was her portrait, taken as she was,
dressed in green; a beautiful tapestry-bed, wrought in
gold by her own hands; and several casks full of
plate, money, and other treasure. Some of these
articles, it is said, were, at the commencement of the
present century, still in possession of the family;
but the portrait was unfortunately lost, or disposed
of in some way, half a century before. The picture
being thus in green, led to her being called, in the
neighbourhood of Thorpe Hall, The Green Lady.
Tradition further records the superstitious belief,
that the old hall was haunted by her, and that she
used nightly to take her seat in a particular tree
near the mansion. It was also said that, during the
life of his son, Sir Charles Bolle, a knife and fork
were always laid for her at table, if she chose to
make her appearance!
The compiler of this account,
who was then resident in Louth, well remembers the
belief in many superstitious minds, some thirty-five
years ago, that The Green Lady was occasionally to be
seen walking about the grounds at midnight!
But to continue with our
story. It seems that the attachment of the beautiful
Spaniard to Sir John was such, that it became the
subject of a ballad, which was subsequently published
in Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry,
and which was called:
THE SPANISH LADYE'S LOVE FOR AN ENGLISHMAN
Will you hear a Spanish
lady,
How she wooed an English man?
Garments gay as rich as may be,
Decked with jewels, she had on.
Of a comely countenance and grace was she,
And by birth and parentage of high degree.
As his prisoner there he
kept her,
In his hands her life did lye;
Cupid's bands did tye them faster
By the liking of an eye.
In his courteous company was all her joy,
To favour him in anything she was not coy.
But at last there came
commandment
For to set the ladies free,
With their jewels still adorned,
None to do them injury.
Then said this lady mild: "Full woe is me,
0! let me still sustain this kind captivity!
Gallant captain, spew some
pity
To a lady in distresse;
Leave me not within this city,
For to dye in heavinesse:
Thou hast set this present day my body free,
But my heart in prison still remains with thee."
"How shouldst thou, fair
lady, love me,
Whom thou know'st thy country's foe?
Thy fair wordes make me suspect thee:
Serpents lie where flowers grow."
"All the harme I wishe to thee, most courteous
knight,
God grant the same upon my head may fully light.
Blessed be the time and
season
That you came on Spanish ground;
If you may our foes be termed,
Gentle foes we have you found:
With our city, you have won our hearts each one,
Then to your country bear away, that is your own."
"Rest you still, most
gallant lady;
Rest you still, and weep no more;
Of fair lovers there are plenty,
Spain doth yield you wonderous store."
"Spaniards fraught with jealousy we oft do find,
But Englishmen throughout the world are counted
kind.
Leave me not unto a
Spaniard,
Thou alone enjoy'st my heart;
I am lovely, young, and tender,
Love is likewise my desert.
Still to serve thee day and night my mind is prest;
The wife of every Englishman is counted blest."
" It would be a shame,
fair lady,
For to bear a woman hence;
English soldiers never carry
Any such without offence."
"I'll quickly change myself, if it be so,
And like a page will follow thee, where'er thou
go."
" I have neither gold nor
silver
To maintain thee in this case,
And to travel is great charges
As you know in every place."
"My chains and jewels every one shall be thy own,
And eke ten thousand pounds in gold that lies
unknown."
"On the seas are many
dangers,
Many storms do there arise,
Which will be to ladies dreadful,
And force tears from watery eyes."
"Well in troth I shall endure extremity,
For I could find in heart to lose my life for
thee."
"Courteous ladye, leave
this fancy,
Here comes all that breeds the strife;
I in England have already
A sweet woman to my wife!
I will not falsify my vow for gold nor gain,
Nor yet for all the fairest dames that live in
Spain."
"0 how happy is that woman
That enjoys so true a friend!
Many happy days God send her;
Of my suit I make an end:
On my knees I pardon crave for my offence,
Which did from love and true affection first
commence.
Commend me to thy lovely
lady,
Bear to her this chain of gold;
And these bracelets for a token;
Grieving that I was so bold:
All my jewels in like sort bear them with thee;
For they are fitting for thy wife, but not for
sue.
I will spend my days in
prayer,
Love and all his laws defye;
In a nunnery will I shroud me
Far from any companye:
But ere my prayers have an end, be sure of this,
To pray for thee and for thy love I will not miss.
Thus farewell, most
gallant captain!
Farewell, too, my heart's content!
Count not Spanish ladies wanton,
Though to thee my love was bent:
Joy and true prosperity goe still with thee!"
"The like fall ever to thy share, most fair ladye!"'
Shenstone had also an elegant
poem on the same subject, entitled Love and Honour,
concluding with the lines:
'And to the cloister's
pensive scene
Elvira shaped her solitary way.'
Sir John died in 1606, in the
forty-sixth year of his age, and was interred in the
chancel of Haugh church, where a monument was erected
to him, with a Latin inscription, bespeaking his
accomplishments as a scholar and a soldier. His
portrait, taken in 1596, when thirty-six years of age,
having on the 'chain of gold' spoken of in the poem,
and a curious thumb-ring, set in massive gold, with
the arms of the family, bearing sixteen quarterings,
elegantly engraven and emblazoned, came into the
possession of the Birch family, descendants of the
Bolles. Captain T. Birch, of the 1st Life Guards,
lived at Thorpe Hall about 1808.