however, existed long before, but meant loose trowsers, such, perhaps, as were worn by the "lean and slippered pantaloon" of Shakspeare, and probably by the pantaloons of the stage. "The pantaloon," says Evelyn (Tyrannus, or the Mode), “are too exorbitant, and of neither sex." They were "set in plaits," not, it seems, unlike the fashion of Cossack trowsers, which came into fashion in Europe after the French campaigns to Russia, and still more after the Russian campaigns into France. Mourning.—Mr. Bray (in his note on a passage in Evelyn's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 80), stating that he had received gratis a complete mourning to attend Mr. Pepys's funeral) observes that "this is a curious circumstance." Mr. Bray seems strangely misinformed on this point; mourning is always given gratis. The custom is lost amongst the higher orders, except in scarves, gloves, and hat-bands, which are still given; but our servants still understand that mourning is to be a gratuitous gift, and female servants, who are seldom allowed clothes at their master's cost, always have their mourning. The clergy have always, I believe, received and used for private purposes the mourning decorations of churches. The kings of France mourn in violet; our kings, as kings of France, used to do the same. Dangeau tells us that on some public occasion at the court of France, after his exile, James II. wore violet. "It surprised us," says Dangeau, "to see two kings of France." The anecdote is creditable to both the monarchs. Wig.-At Paris the Prince (Charles I. on his expedition to Spain) spent one day to view the city and court, shadowing himself the most he could under a bushy peruque, which none in former days but bald people used, but now generally intruded into a fashion; and the Prince's was so big that it was hair enough for his whole face.-Arthur Wilson, Hist. Eng., 1653, p. 226. Swords worn in public.-Sir Lucius O'Trigger talks of Bath in 1774, near twenty years after Nash's reign, and, even at that time, only says that swords were "not worn there "—implying that they were worn elsewhere; and we know that Sheridan's own duel at Bath was a rencontre, he and his adversary, Mathews, both wearing swords. In a set of characteristic sketches of eminent persons about the year 1782, several wear swords; and one or two members of the House of Commons, evidently represented in the attitude of speaking, have swords. In a picture of the Mall in St. James's Park, of about that date, the men have swords. They probably began to go out of common use about 1770, and were nearly left off in ordinary life in 1780; but were still occasionally worn, both in public and private, till the French Revolution, when they totally went out, except in court dress. Muff's worn by Gentlemen.-In Lamber's Travels in Canada and the United States (1815), vol. i. p. 307, is the following pas sage- I should not be surprised if those delicate young soldiers were to introduce muffs; they were in general use among the men under the French government, and are still worn by two or three old gentlemen. In the year 1592 the Duke of Nevers was despatched by Henry IV. with all speed to a place called Bully, in order to cut off the retreat of the Duke of Guise, lately defeated near Bures. Sully speaks of him thus: The Duke of Nevers, the slowest of men, began by sending to make choice of the most favourable roads, and marched with a slow pace towards Bully, with his hands and his nose in his muff, and his whole person well packed up in his coach.—Memoirs of Sully, vol. i. p. 235, English edit., Edinburgh, 1773. The writer of a series of papers in the New Monthly Magazine, entitled “Parr in his later years," thus (vol. xvi. p. 482) describes the appearance of that learned Theban: He had on his dressing-gown, which, I think, was flannel or cotton, and the skirts dangled around his ankles; over this he had drawn his great coat, buttoned close; and his hands, for he had been attacked with erysipelas not long before, were kept warm in a silk muff, not much larger than the poll of a common hat. In an anonymous poetical pamphlet (Thoughts concerning Feasting and Dancing, 12mo., London, 1800) is a little poem entitled “The Muff," in the course of which the following lines occur A time there was (that time is now no more, From button of the coat of well-dress'd beau. Would seem effeminate and wrong in man. In a portrait of Erasmus, prefixed to a translation of his Colloquies, London, 1671, he is represented with his hands in a muff. CHATTERTON. The following account of the whole of the proceedings at the inquest which was held at the Three Crows, Brook Street, Holborn, on Friday, Aug. 27, 1770, before Swinson Carter, Esq., and ten jurymen, whose names are mentioned, is from a MS. copy. I am not acquainted with any printed work which contains a report of the inquest. It is not in the large collection of Chatterton's Works and Lives, and the innumerable newspaper and magazine cuttings, which fill several volumes, and which belonged to Mr. Haslewood; nor is it in Barrett's Bristol, or Herbert Croft's Love and Madness. Account of the Inquest held on the body of THOMAS CHATTERTON, deceased, at the Three Crows, Brook Street, Holborn, on Friday, the 27th August, 1770, before Swinson Carter, Esq., and the following jury:-Charles SkinMeres, John Hollier, John Park, S. G. Doran, Henry Dugdale, G. J. Hillsley, C. Sheen, E. Manley, C. Moore, Nevett. ner, MARY ANGELL, sack-maker, of No. 17 Brook Street, Holborn, deposed, that the deceased came to lodge at her house about nine or ten weeks ago; he took the room below the garret; he always slept in the same room; he was always very exact in his payments to her; and at one time, when she knew that he had paid her all the money he had in the world, she offered him sixpence back, which he refused to take, saying, "I have that here (pointing to his forehead) which will get me more." He used to sit up nearly all night, and she frequently found his bed untouched in the morning, when she went to make it; she knew that he always bought his loaves-one of which lasted him for a week-as stale as possible, that they might last the longer: and, two days before his death, he came home in a great passion with the baker's wife, who had refused to let him have another loaf until he paid her 3s. 6d. which he owed her previously. He, the deceased, appeared unusually grave on the 28th August; and, on her asking him what ailed him, he answered, pettishly, Nothing, nothing-why do you ask?" On the morning of the 24th August, he lay in bed longer than usual; got up about ten o'clock, and went out with a bundle of paper under his arm, which he said "was a treasure to any one, but there were so many fools in the world that he would put them in a place of safety, lest they should meet with accident." He returned about seven in the evening, looking very pale and dejected; and would not eat any thing, but sat moping by the fire with his chin on his knees, and muttering rhymes in some old language to her. Witness saw him for the last time when he got up to go to bed; he then kissed her (a thing he had never done in his life before), and then went up stairs, stamping on every stair as he went slowly up, as if he would break it. Witness stated that he did not come down next morning, but she was not alarmed, as he had lain longer than usual on the day before; but at eleven o'clock, Mrs. Wolfe, a neighbour's wife, coming in, they went and listened at the door, and tried to open it, but it was locked. At last, they got a man who was near to break it open; and they found him lying on the bed with his legs hanging over, quite dead: the bed had not been lain on. The floor was covered all over with little bits of paper; and on one piece the man read, in deceased's handwriting, "I leave my soul to its Maker, my body to my mother and sister, and my curse to Bristol. If Mr. Ca. The rest was torn off. The man then said he must have killed himself, which we did not think till then, not having seen the poison till an hour after. Deceased was very proud, but never unkind to any one. I do not think he was quite right in his mind lately. The man took away the paper, and I have not been able to find him out. FREDERICK ANGELL deposed to the fact of deceased lodging at their house; was from home when deceased was found. Always considered him something wonderful, and was sometimes afraid he would go out of his mind. Deceased often came home very melancholy: and, on his once asking him the reason, he said, "Hamilton has deceived me;" but could get no more from him. Deceased was always writing to his mother or sister, of whom he appeared to be very fond. I never knew him in liquor, and never saw him drink any thing but water. EDWIN CROSS, apothecary, Brook Street, Holborn. Knew the deceased well from the time he came to live with Mrs. Angell in the same street. Deceased used generally to call on him every time he went by his door, which was usually two or three times in a day. Deceased used to talk a great deal about physic, and was very inquisitive about the nature of different poisons. I often asked him to take a meal with us, but he was so proud that I could never but once prevail on him, though I knew he was half-starving. One evening he did stay, when I unusually pressed him. He talked a great deal, but all at once became silent, and looked quite vacant. He used to go very often to Falcon Court, Fleet Street, to a Mr. Hamilton, who printed a magazine; but who, he said, was using him very badly. I once recommended him to return to Bristol, but he only heaved a deep sigh; and begged me, with tears in his eyes, never to mention the hated name again. He called on me on the 24th August, about half past eleven in the morning, and bought some arsenic, which he said was for an experiment. About the same time next day, Mrs. Wolfe ran in for me, saying deceased had killed himself. I went to his room, and found him quite dead. On his window was a bottle containing arsenic and water; some of the little bits of arsenic were between his teeth. I believe if he had not killed himself, he would soon have died of starvation; for he was too proud to ask of any one. Witness always considered deceased as an astonishing genius. ANNE WOLFE, of Brook Street. Witness lived three doors from Mrs. Angell's; knew the deceased well; always thought him very proud and haughty. She sometimes thought him crazed. She saw him one night walking up and down the street at twelve o'clock, talking loud, and occasionally stopping, as if to think on something. One day he came in to buy some curls, which he |