an inch in length, and had probably been cut so short
for the convenience of the executioner, or, perhaps, in order to furnish
memorials of the unhappy king. On holding up the head to examine the
place of separation from the body, the muscles of the neck had evidently
retracted themselves considerably, and the fourth cervical vertebra was
found to be cut through its substance transversely, leaving the surfaces
of the divided portions perfectly smooth and even; an appearance which
could only have been produced by a heavy blow, inflicted with a very
sharp instrument, and which furnished the last proof wanting to identify
Charles I. After this examination, which served every purpose in view,
and without examining the body below the neck; it was immediately
restored to its situation, the coffin was soldered up again, and the
vault closed."

This state of things precisely tallied with the account which Herbert,
the faithful servant of Charles, had given as to the place of his
sepulture.

In this chapel, too, is the cenotaph of the late Princess Charlotte,
who was wife to Leopold, now King of Belgium. I do not much admire it.

The exquisite beauty of the windows, and the gorgeous splendor of the
roof, will always make this place live in my memory. The terraces are
very beautiful walks; and from Queen Elizabeth's terrace you have a
noble view of Eton College. Of course, we were pleased to see "the
distant spires and antique towers" which are so celebrated in the lines
of Gray. The college looms up finely, and greatly adds to the prospect.
Eton was founded in 1440, by Henry VI. The number of scholars is about
eight hundred and fifty. This college has produced some of the greatest
men in England, and the young nobility are generally educated here. The
college has two quadrangles, and the chapel is a fine Gothic building.
All this region is beautified by the Thames winding through the valley.
Here is the gem of villages, Datchett, where Sir Henry Wotton and Izaak
Walton used to enjoy the rod and line. No one who has any taste can come
to Windsor and not think of the immortal bard who has made so much
capital out of this place. At all events, we wanted to see Herne's Oak.

We took a carriage and passed the day in riding through the great park,
and took our way through the well-known avenue, called the Long Walk.
This is three miles in length, and has a double row of magnificent
elms. It is directly in front of the south side of