A recent extension from Bletchley traverses Buckinghamshire, and by a fork which commences at Winslow, passes through Buckingham and Brackley to Banbury by one line, and by Bicester to Oxford by the other.  We need not pause at Brackley or Winslow.  Buckingham is notable chiefly as being on the road to Princely Palatial Stowe, the seat of the Buckingham family, now shorn of its internal glories in pictures, sculptures, carvings, tapestry, books, and manuscripts.  Its grounds and gardens, executed on a great scale in the French style, only remain to delight the traveller; these would require, and have been often described in, illustrated volumes.  Here we shall not dwell upon the melancholy scene of grandeur, power, and wealth frittered away in ignoble follies.

BANBURY.

Banbury is more celebrated than worth seeing.  Commercial travellers consider it one of the best towns in England, as it is a sort of metropolis to a great number of thriving villages.  Banbury cakes are known wherever English children are bred, and to them, where not educated in too sensible a manner, the Homeric ballad of—­

   “Ride a cock horse
   To Banbury Cross,”

is sung.  Unfortunately, the Puritans, in the time of Edward VI., pulled this famous cross down.

They were in great force there; for as Drunken Barnaby, in his tour, tells us:—­

   “There I found a Puritan one,
   Hanging of his cat on Monday
   For killing of a rat on Sunday.”

At Banbury was fought, after the English fashion, one of the great fights that preceded the carrying of the Reform Bill.  Previous to that change, sixteen electors had the privilege of sending a member to Parliament.

During the Reform excitement six of these privileged gentlemen seceded from their usual compact, and determined to set up on their own account.  For want of a better man, they pitched upon Mr. Easthope, of the Morning Chronicle, since that period, much to his own astonishment no doubt, pitchforked into a baronetcy.  The old original M.P. was Colonel Hutchinson, the companion of Sir Robert Wilson in carrying off Lavalette.  On entering the town, ten thousand Reformers set up such a howling, that Colonel Hutchinson, thinking his last hour at hand, drew a dagger.  Upon which more groans and shrieks followed, with such threats as made it prudent for the friends of the Colonel to compel him to retreat.  Under these circumstances, the streets of the town were crammed full with an excited mob; the poll was opened; the six, amid tremendous plaudits, voted for Easthope, and Reform; the ten very discreetly staid at home, and thus, by six votes, a baronetcy was secured to the unopposed candidate.

It is droll to look back upon the movement which led public opinion to prefer a stockjobber to a gallant soldier.

Banbury manufactures horse girths and other kinds of webbing, as well as excellent ale.  There are two inns, both good.