In the year 1850 a remarkable discovery was made in a field close to Fairford.  No less than a hundred and fifty skeletons were unearthed, and with them a large number of very interesting Anglo-Saxon relics, some of them in good preservation.  In many of the graves an iron knife was found lying by the skeleton; in others the bodies were decorated with bronze fibulae, richly gilt, and ornamented in front.  Mr. W. Wylie, in his interesting account of these Anglo-Saxon graves, tells us that some of the bodies were as large as six feet six inches; whilst one or two warriors of seven feet were unearthed.  All the skeletons were very perfect, even though no signs of any coffins were to be seen.  Bronze bowls and various kinds of pottery, spearheads of several shapes, a large number of coloured beads, bosses of shields, knives, shears, and two remarkably fine swords were some of the relics found with the bodies.  A glass vessel, coloured yellow by means of a chemical process in which iron was utilised, is considered by Mr. Wylie to be of Saxon manufacture, and not Venetian or Roman, as other authorities hold.

Whether this is merely an Anglo-Saxon burial-place, or whether the bodies are those of the warriors who fell in a great battle such as that fought in A.D. 577, when the Saxons overthrew the Britons and took from them the cities of Gloucester, Cirencester, and Bath, it is impossible to determine.  The natives are firmly convinced that the skeletons represent the slain in a great battle fought near this spot; but this is only tradition.  At all events, the words of prophecy attributed to the old Scotch bard Ossian have a very literal application with reference to this interesting relic of bygone times:  “The stranger shall come and build there and remove the heaped-up earth.  An half-worn sword shall rise before him.  Bending above it, he will say, ’These are the arms of the chiefs of old, but their names are not in song.’” The “heaped-up” earth has long ago disappeared, for there are no “barrows” now to be seen.  Cottages stand where the old burial mounds doubtless once existed, and all monumental evidences of those mighty men—­the last, perhaps, of an ancient race—­have long since been destroyed by the ruthless hand of time.

The manor of Fairford now belongs to the Barker family, to whom it came through the female line about a century ago.

We must now leave Fairford, and start on our pilgrimage to the Roman villa of Chedworth.  At present we have not got very far, having lingered at our starting-point longer than we had intended.  The first two miles are the least interesting of the whole journey; the Coln, broadened out for some distance to the size of a lake, is hidden from our view by the tall trees of Fairford Park.  It was along this road that John Keble, the poet used to walk day by day to his cure at Coln-St.-Aldwyns.  His home was at Fairford.  Two eminent American artists have made their home in Fairford during recent years—­Mr. Edwin Abbey and Mr. J. Sargent, both R.A’s.  Close by, too, at Kelmscott, dwelt William Morris, the poet.