About the year 416 the Romans finally removed themselves from our island, taking with them many of the brave youths of Britain, and leaving the country in the hands of a people whose inactive habits, acquired under their dominion, had rendered them ignorant of the art and unfit for the hardships of warfare. According to Ethelwerd’s Chronicle, in the year 418 those few of the Roman race who were left in Britain, not being able to put up with the manifold insults of the natives, buried their treasure in pits, hoping that at some future day, when all animosity had subsided, they would be able to recover it and live peaceably, but such a fortunate consummation never arrived, and weary at length of waiting, they assembled on the coasts and “spreading their canvass to the wind, sought an exile on the shores of Gaul.” The Saxon Chronicle says:—“This year, A.D. 418, the Romans collected all the treasures that were in Britain, and some they hid in the earth so that no one since has been able to find them; and some they carried with them into Gaul.” It is far from unlikely that the silver denarii, discovered in 1840 by some brickmakers near Rossall, and amounting to four hundred coins of Trajan, Hadrian, Titus, Vespasian, Domitian, Antonius, Severus, Sabina, etc., were deposited in that spot for security by one of those much harassed Romans, previous to his departure from our coast. A prize so easily to be obtained as Britain in its practically unprotected state appeared, was not long in attracting the covetousness of the neighbouring Picts and Scots, who came down in thousands from the north, forced their way beyond the Roman Wall erected by Hadrian, occupied the fortresses and towns, and spread ruin and devastation in their track. The northern counties were the chief sufferers from these ruthless marauders. Cumberland, Yorkshire, and Lancashire, were ravaged and plundered to such an extent that had it not been for the seasonable assistance of the Saxons, the whole country they embrace would have been utterly devastated and almost depopulated. Gildas, the earliest British historian[7], born about 500, described our land before the incursions of the Picts and Scots as abounding in pleasant hills, spreading pastures, cultivated fields, silvery streams, and snow-white sands, and spoke of the roofs of the buildings in the twenty-eight cities of the kingdom as “raised aloft with threatening hugeness.” We may readily conceive how this picture of peace and prosperity was marred and ruined, as far as the three counties above-named were concerned, by the destroying hand of the northern nation. The British towns were still surrounded by the fortified walls and embattled towers, built by the Romans, but the unfortunate inhabitants, so long unaccustomed to “The close-wedged battle and the din of war,”