EVERY now and then one is startled by reading in the newspapers some sensational account of how a hoard of coins or other valuables has been discovered in some oak chest or bureau which has been purchased at an auction for the proverbial 'mere song.'Many of these stories of 'finds'are grossly exaggerated, but those which are substantially true point to what was, no doubt, a very common practice in bygone times, for, obviously, before the bank system came into vogue the practice of concealing sums of money in pieces of furniture and odd corners would be a very natural proceeding. That some of these hoards should only come to light in these latter days is hardly to be wondered at, when we remember how frequently the original depositors may have had their existence prematurely cut short in times when life and property were anything but secure, and how often memory fails with those who live to a ripe age.

One of the most startling finds of this description occurred many years ago, but the fact of the discovery itself is very well substantiated, though collateral details require sifting. In the early part of last century-there existed in the town of Leicester a tottering old Gothic inn, which went by the name of the Blue Boar. This interesting old hostel, which was, unfortunately, pulled down in the thirties to make room for a row of tenements, was closely connected with one of the most remarkable and momentous episodes in English history. In the latter part of the fifteenth century Leicester Castle had become ruinous and uninhabitable, and Richard III., when on his way to try conclusions with the Duke of Richmond on Bosworth Field, slept at this inn, which was at that time the principal one in the town. The King occupied a large, gloomy chamber, whose beams bore conventional representations of vine-tendrils executed in vermilion, which could still be seen when the old building was pulled down.

More than a hundred years afterwards, in Eliza-beth's reign, a man of the name of Clark, who kept the hotel, which by this time had considerably declined in importance, suddenly, and without any apparent cause, rose from his obscure position to one of comparative affluence, attaining, amongst other things, to the office of Mayor of the borough. The man kept his counsel well, but the truth at length leaked out that his wife, 'going to make a bed hastily and jumbling the bedstead, a piece of gold dropped out.'This excited the woman's curiosity; she narrowly examined the piece of furniture, and, finding that it had a double bottom, took off the uppermost with a chisel, upon which she discovered the space between them filled with gold, part of it coined during the reign of Richard III., and the rest in earlier times. *

Not many years after the occurrence Clark died, leaving considerable wealth to his widow, who continued to keep the hostelry. In the year 1613 Mistress Clark was treacherously murdered by her maidservant, whilst seven male accomplices searched for the treasure, strange stories of which had circulated throughout the neighbourhood. The miscreants, it is satisfactory to relate, paid the penalty of their crimes with death. A huge oak bedstead which stood in the room in which the King passed the night was formerly credited with being the actual piece of furniture in which this remarkable discovery was made. The bedstead now stands in Beaumanor, but, unfortunately, here the chain of evidence is broken, for the piece of furniture itself is certainly not earlier than the reign of Elizabeth. The authority who collected the accounts of the discovery and its grim sequel further adds: 'After this the bedstead came into the hands of a servant of that inn, and before it came into the hands of Mr. Alderman Drake it had been many years in the Red Cross Street, where it had been cut to make it fit for a low room.

'The feet, which were cut off, were 2 feet 6 inches long and each 6 inches square. The present feet are modern. It is not probable that the King would carry such a bedstead about with him, but it seems more likely that he was put on the best bed in the house, and that the money was secreted in some convenient and obscure part of the bedstead till his return after the battle; or, in the hurry of the preparation next morning, it might be forgotten.'Now for the probable truth. The bedstead at Beaumanor was doubtless 'the best bed in the house,'but, as I have said, from its style of construction and carving, it certainly dates back no further than Elizabeth's reign. The piece, therefore, was probably made for the house after Mr. Clark's accession of wealth; and the fact that Mistress Clark was murdered upon it caused the connection between this Elizabethan bedstead and the story of the discovery of the treasure.

* Sir Roger Twysden's account in the 'History and Antiquities of the County of Leicester,'by John Nichols, F.S.A., 1815.

But how about the earlier bedstead in which the treasure was secreted? Monarchs of the Plantagenet period, who were accustomed to carry about with them on their journeys such things as chairs and even window casements, would hardly undertake to transport so cumbrous a piece of furniture as a four-poster bedstead, especially when engaged on so perilous a mission as that which led Richard to press forward towards his encounter with Richmond. That picturesque and beautiful, but occasionally inaccurate, historian, Agnes Strickland, in an expression which she uses referring to the circumstance, touches more nearly perhaps on the truth than any other writer: 'Richard occupied a ghostly Gothic chamber; he slept on his military chest, in the shape of a bedstead.' *

* ' Lives of the Queens of England: Reign of Elizabeth of York,' by Agnes Strickland.

As I have said, an examination of medieval missal paintings and illustrations will often show that chests were used for the purpose of sleeping upon. Richard would hardly travel without his military chest, and as the tyrant's coffers were impoverished, it seems very likely that he would keep it closely attached to his person as long as he felt he could with safety do so. The military chest may have been slept upon by King Richard, and was doubtless left behind at the Blue Boar, in Leicester Town, his last stopping-place before the conflict. The guard which remained behind, with this and other impedimenta in their charge, either absconded at the astounding news of Richard's defeat and death, or were slaughtered, and the chest remained at the inn, unclaimed, its richer booty beneath the false bottom lying unsuspected till Mistress Clark's 'jumbling'revealed its secret.