26 MY LIFE AS A NATURALIST 



inspired Blackcap in the little copse on my left, the progeny, 

 may be, of one that sang in days gone by to brave Cassivelaunus, 

 or all-conquering Caesar, when Roman rule held undisputed sway 

 at the spot where I write these lines. Then, I look through the 

 tall trees towards the valley of the Ver, and witness, as if kine- 

 matographed, the stately entry of the Druids during the 1907 

 Pageant, and seem to hear again the weird music (the wail, or 

 dirge, of the Roman women), composed by my old schoolfellow, 

 W. H. Bell. I see Caesar on his charger handing his ring to 

 Cassivelaunus, the British chief, the latter having sued for peace. 

 I perceive Alban, some three centuries later, bidding farewell to 

 Saint Amphibalus near the city walls, and refusing to worship 

 the Roman deities. Thus is my native city for ever associated 

 with primitive Christianity, the martyrdom occurring within 

 three hundred years of the crucifixion of Christ. Moreover, the 

 English Christianity of to-day is inseparably linked up with 

 the Christianity which converted the Roman world. 



There now flashes across my mind the scene enacted by King 

 Offa, who, guided, we are told, by a brilliant star in the heavens, 

 is believed to have discovered the bones of the blessed Saint. 

 Offa was king of Mercia. He had a palace at Offley, near my 

 present home in the north of Hertfordshire, and may be desig- 

 nated father of modern English Independence, and, as has been 

 well said, no matter what our personal opinions may be, he was the 

 first of that line of politicians who utilised religion in the service 

 of the State. 



To this desire on the part of Offa to find the relics of the Saint, 

 and to erect an edifice on the site of the martyrdom, the present 

 city of St Albans owes its inception. The foundation of the 

 Monastery brought into being the new town which rapidly sprang 

 up around the monastic buildings, so that to-day we look from 

 Verulam's fields and woods towards the newer city on the hill 

 beyond. Thus does St Albans itself present to us a fairly con- 

 tinuous story of England from the time when, in 793, King Offa 

 founded a monastery, though it should be stated that a Church 

 was erected on the spot now occupied by the Cathedral as early 

 as 313. 



We cannot enter the sacred precincts now, so brimful of histori- 

 cal interest ; suffice it to say that in History, Art, Printing, Music, 

 Philosophy, Religion, Sacrifice, and other epochs in national life, 

 we are here in close touch with individual and collective evidences 

 of bygone England. British, Roman, Early English, and 



