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THE HOME OF THE JACKDAWS. 
array of legions ; that the Britons, feeling they could not oppose 
such an array on the shore, allowed him to land, placed 
Cassivelaunus at their head as leader, watched and impeded the 
Romans across the Stour, therefrom across the Thames, for 
which the latest critic (Col. Dodge, in 1892) states that “ Caesar 
chose a spot between Kingston and Brentford,” thence on to 
St. Albans, Cassivelaunus’s capital, till, at length, by tribal dis- 
union and dissensions, the usual Celtic failures, Caesar managed 
to patch up a peace, to impose hostages that were never sent, 
and to get back, fortunately, before the winter gales came 
on. Bearing in mind how the August springtides had nearly 
made an end of the first fleet, drawn up and handled by those 
who had known hardly any tides in their own Mediterranean, 
and how the boisterous gales of the inhospitable coast had nearly 
wrecked the second fleet, we may feel sure that Caesar had as 
narrow an escape on our shores as ever he had from the water- 
drinking Nervii — whom he praises alike for temperance and 
for bravery — two years earlier in Belgium, and that it was by 
the merest good luck that the Romans ever got back at all, even 
though led by that Caius Julius Caesar, whom a great historian 
proclaims to be “the greatest name in history.” Thus the 
Queen of Shakespere’s Cymbeline had, we feel, good reason 
to recall to her people : 
“ The natural bravery of your isle, which stands 
As Neptune’s park, ribbed and paled in 
With sands that will not bear your enemies’ boats, 
But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of conquest 
Caesar made here, but made not here his brag 
Of came, and saw, and overcame : with shame. 
The first that ever touched him, he was carried 
From off our coast twice beaten ; while his shipping. 
Poor ignorant baubles ! on our terrible seas. 
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, cracked 
As easily ’gainst our rocks.” 
With reminiscences such as these it is pleasant to associate 
one of the most restful and charming places that could be found 
wherein to spend a peaceful holiday. And to a student of bird- 
life it may be well to remember the spot as, more especially, the 
Home of the Jackdaws. 
Richmond-on-Thames. W. J. C. Miller. 
“Very Womanly!” — “Very womanly indeed! The Queen of last 
week contained a drawing of a so-called lady, tricked out with feathers and 
wings, engaged in the highly feminine sport of shooting, while a keeper beside 
her carries a bunch of blood-dabbled birds. Oh ! yes, the gentle sex ! And it 
is women, without heart as without thought for anything but pleasure and 
vanity, who are mainly responsible for the desolation that is slowly creeping over 
the whole earth. No bird of any sort is now safe from the spoiler. And the 
rarer and more beautiful it is the more eagerly it is sought — sought, too, for the 
sole purpose of ministering to the paltry pride of painted and frivolous women.” 
— Newcastle Daily Chronicle, September 7. 
