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Title: Pictures from English History
       A Fireside Amusement

Author: Anonymous

Release Date: June 10, 2019 [EBook #59725]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY ***




Produced by Al Haines







Queen Victoria raising Lord Rolle.  p. 102
Queen Victoria raising Lord Rolle.



PICTURES
FROM
ENGLISH HISTORY.


A Fireside Amusement


WITH ENGRAVINGS.


BATH:
BINNS AND GOODWIN.
LONDON: WHITTAKER & CO., AVE MARIA LANE.
EDINBURGH: JOHNSTONE. DUBLIN: CURRY.

1846.




BATH: PRINTED BY BINNS AND GOODWIN.




PREFACE.

While there are so many pleasant ways of instructing the youth of the present day, it may perhaps appear presumption to add this work to the number. But those who have watched the expansion of a child's mind may have seen, that the idea of improvement is too frequently combined with that of a task; and where instruction can be conveyed in a lighter form, it is more pleasantly and permanently impressed. With a little attention from their elders, many branches of education may be made attractive to children; and it is hoped, that this small volume, if it should not succeed in imprinting some few incidents of English History on the memory of the children, may suggest to the parents the possibility of lessening the weariness of study.




PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY.


A Fireside Amusement.



CHAPTER I.

Little boys and girls—aye, and their elders also—often feel the hours very long and heavy. The latter have many causes for this feeling; but the former had better take my advice, and directly seek for some employment, which will, I promise, cure their complaint. They may have a kind mama or friend to assist them; and there are many more ways of amusing themselves than they think of. Let them listen to me, and I will tell them of a game which often entertained some young friends of mine, and was one of their plans for passing idle moments.

It was early in January that Mrs. Macdonald was quietly sitting with her sister, who had not long arrived from India. It was very cold; the shutters had been shut, the curtains drawn earlier than usual, and the ladies had made a cheerful fire to greet Mr. Macdonald on his return from his daily occupation. After so long a separation they had much to talk of, and preferred the bright blaze to the light of the lamp.

At the top of the house a very different scene was passing. Mrs. Macdonald's children and their four cousins had romped until they were tired, and were now silly enough to complain of being obliged to stop, and did not know what to do next; the elder children had good-naturedly joined in their games, and were too weary to tell stories, or continue their exertions in their behalf. The nurse had insisted on their not crowding too close to the fire, to which she maintained the baby and the tea-kettle had the best right. Little Alfred had asserted he was tired of his life, and his little cousins began crying with cold to which they were so unaccustomed, when the former started to his feet, expressing his determination that he would go to mama, who he was sure had candles, and would shew them the new puzzles papa gave them at Christmas. It was in vain to try and stop him, or to remind him that it was some time before the usual hour of going into the drawing room: the nursery was quite out of favour, and little feet hurrying down stairs, soon interrupted the ladies' conversation.

Alfred was the first to enter, and was quite disappointed at finding the lamp had not been brought in; the chilly little natives of India crowded to the fender, and all contrived to secure a piece of the warm hearthrug, or a footstool. Alfred, to compensate for his troubles, seated himself on his mama's lap, and presently assured the circle, that he "would give the whole world, if papa would come home."

"You are a silly little boy, Alfred," replied his mama; "if it were possible for you to possess the world, you would soon gladly relinquish it to any one who would take it from you. You had better learn to know more of the earth, its inhabitants, and their customs, before you undertake such a weighty charge."

All laughed at poor Alfred, until his aunt silenced them, and declared that she thought his remark might lead to much pleasant instruction; she felt sure that many of the party knew but little of the globe on which they lived; "suppose we talk on the subjects of which you are so ignorant, instead of the stories we generally relate."

Some murmured approbation; but one or two confessed they thought it would be rather like a lesson, and that their governess had that morning given them a long lecture on geography. Alfred boldly asserted that he did not like such subjects, and that he was very glad the next day's task would be history. "I long to see," he added, "what becomes of poor Charles I. I left him in prison; mama, will you tell me if he was ever made a king again?"

"I must say," answered his mother, "that you are not as grateful for your aunt's suggestion as I could wish. I am sure had you listened we might have made our accounts of different lands so interesting, that you would have found it very different from a task; but I will humour you, and this evening's amusement shall be historical. If I tell stories of former days, I shall find it difficult to suit them to your different ages; I therefore propose that all who can, shall join me in describing scenes from English history, of which you each know something. Those who listen must guess the subjects, and may be allowed to ask questions."

"We think we understand you, mama," exclaimed the children; "and if you will begin, we shall soon be able to join."

Mrs. Macdonald willingly consented; and after a few minutes, described the following circumstance:—"You must picture to yourselves the coast of a shore, where it was rather flat, and easy to land. It was crowded with a vast multitude dressed in skins, and painted with a blue dye: formidable cars, with sharp scythes fixed to the wheels, were ready to attack the enemy, who approached in large vessels, the construction of which showed more skill than the wicker boats, covered with skin, made by the people on the land. The ships were close to the shore, but none dared to leave them, until a standard bearer jumped into the water to encourage his comrades, who, following him, soon defeated the natives."

"Do let us have the date told us," begged Mary Macdonald.

"I have made my first picture so easy, that I should scarcely have thought this necessary: however, I will tell you: it was 53 years before Christ."

"Did the conquerors leave the poor savages, and return the following year?"

"Yes; and they found it so difficult to subdue them, that the enterprise was at last abandoned."

"Then, mama, I know to what you refer."

The answer was pronounced correct; and whilst Mrs. Arabin was considering what incident to relate, the last was discussed.

"Mama," said Alfred, "do you know that I think the people were very dirty to paint themselves."

"It was their idea of ornament; in these days it is difficult to imagine the unenlightened state of their minds. The blue dye which they used was extracted from a plant called woad."

"I think I remember," remarked one of the little ones, "that the conquerors came to Britain from Gaul;—but I see my aunt is ready."

"My history is a sad instance of the cruelty often attending war; the scene is laid in a public street of a magnificent city, adorned with massive buildings, laurel-crowned statues, and fine bridges over a noble river. Crowds of spectators are watching a procession, the principal figures of which are a royal prisoner, with his wife and two daughters, led in chains: the man's face bespeaks lofty indignation."

This at first puzzled the young people; but when they heard he made such a moving appeal for liberty, that his chains were struck off, the mystery was solved.

Annie had already prepared a sketch, and now begged for her turn. "I wish to show you," she commenced, "a woman with more the appearance of a warrior than a female, in her tent on the field of battle, surrounded by her children; she has put a cup of deadly poison to her lips, and now presents it to her young son: his firmness masters the weakness of his years, and he also takes a long-deep draught."

"Mama, help us to guess," was heard on all sides, but the young ones were desired first to exercise their own memories. All the cases of poisoning they had ever heard of were mentioned, but at last a hint from the relator assisted them, and the right answer was given.

Mrs. Macdonald now took the turn of one of her little nieces, and described to them a fact which had taken place some time after that just related. "A king and his courtiers are listening attentively to a holy man, who had come to their country to preach Christianity; the minds of the court had before been in darkness, but the earnestness of his auditors prophesied that they were now inclined to listen to his persuasions."

This was pronounced very difficult; many guesses were given, some fancying that it must be intended for Henry VIII. and Cranmer, but they were told that it was a much earlier date, and not later than A.D. 600. This information, after a short pause, made the true circumstance to be remembered, and the next description was of an encampment. In one of the tents the inmates are absorbed by a harper, who had sought the principal tent, and was so completely captivating them by his musical talents, that they seemed to forget both their situation and military duties.

"Did he receive money, and bury it?" was quickly asked.

"No, it was not Prince Anlaff, although you are right in fixing on a Danish camp."

The hero was such a favorite with the little historians that they soon found the right name, and Alfred reminded them that the same person invented lanterns, and proceeded to relate a story from their nice book, called "Evenings at Home," where he was represented baking cakes; the little boy was so pleased at the opportunity of talking, that he felt quite annoyed when the nurse came to tell them their tea was ready. The clock was examined to show that there had been no mistake in the time; an hour had passed so quickly, that some suspected it was not yet six.

"I wished so much for papa to come home," remonstrated Alfred; "he generally comes back long before our tea-time; I am certain it cannot be so late."

"You have, my dear boy," replied his aunt, "learnt that discontent may be cured by occupation: had you observed your mother, you would have seen by her constant glances at her watch, that she has long expected your father. I now hear his step in the hall; run and kiss him, and then go with nurse, as you have already kept her waiting some time."

Before this injunction was obeyed, they solicited a promise that they might come down the next evening at the same time, and play at the same game. This was readily granted, and they ran up stairs much happier than they had come down.


1. Invasion of Britain by Julius Caesar. B.C. 55.

2. Caractacus led prisoner through Rome. A.D. 43.

3. Boadicea. A.D. 43.

4. St. Augustine preaching to Ethelbert. A.D. 600.

5. Alfred in the Danish camp. A.D. 880.




CHAPTER II.

"Now mama," "Now auntie," cried half a dozen little voices at once, as Mrs. Macdonald and her sister closed their books, and drew their chairs close to the fire, on the following evening.

"One moment to collect my thoughts, dear children," said Mrs. Macdonald, stirring the fire, and taking one of her shivering little nieces on her lap, whilst Alfred secured his aunt's knee, seeing that his accustomed place was occupied.

"The scene I shall describe to-night is laid in a hall, where tables are spread for a feast: the preparations are certainly not so costly as some we might see now-a-days; for instead of carpets, rushes are laid on the floor; the walls appear to be made of wood, interlaced with osiers; the windows are filled up, some with cloth, and others with lattice work, instead of glass; there are no grates or fire-places; nevertheless the table is covered with clean white linen, and each person has a separate drinking horn, a mess of pottage, a wooden knife and spoon; whilst on the wall are hung two or three wooden harps. The entertainment seems to have been interrupted by the entrance of a wild looking man, with whom he who appears to be a king is engaged in close combat. The king holds the robber by the hair of his head; but the latter contrives to plunge a dagger into the heart of his youthful opponent."

There was a long pause after Mrs. Macdonald had ceased speaking, and many were the whisperings between the young people.

"Give it up," cried Alfred, tired of the silence.

"It was a Saxon king, was it not, aunt?" asked Edward, a pale, quiet boy, the eldest of the group.

"Quite right, my dear; and as you have guessed so soon, perhaps you will try and puzzle me in your turn."

Edward blushed, and after a few minutes' hesitation, described the following picture:—

"A king, surrounded by some of his officers, is seated in a large room; his dress and the furniture of the apartment show more cleanliness than luxury; brave, rough men are on bended knee before him; whilst their attendants are bringing in wolves' heads, and laying them at the feet of the king."

"Every one of them was obliged to bring three hundred heads yearly, were they not?" said Mrs. Macdonald.

"Yes, aunt; I am afraid I cannot puzzle you."

When the subject was more clearly made known, Annie asked, "Are there any wolves in Wales now, mama? I should be afraid to live there."

"No, my dear; as men have become more civilized, and the country more full of people, these and other wild animals have been driven into smaller spaces, until at last they have all been killed. This is not only the case in England, but in other countries; where colonies are spreading over formerly wild tracts of land, the wilder animals are fast disappearing."

"I am glad of it," rejoined Annie, drawing closer to her mother's knee, and looking round as if a wolf had been behind her.

"I will now describe a picture," said Mrs. Arabin. "At the gate of a castle, situated in a country where the ground near the sea never appears to rise into high hills, but spreads itself in undulating downs, we see a mild-looking young man on horseback. His horse is much heated; he wears a hunting-horn by his side, whilst thirsty dogs seem to envy their master the cup he is putting to his lips. An elderly woman, with sharp eyes, but a gracious smile on her face, has scarcely withdrawn her hand after presenting her young visitor with the cup, whilst a servant is at this moment plunging a dagger into the shoulder of the fair-haired youth on horseback."

The subject of this description was exclaimed by many little voices as soon as Mrs. Arabin had ceased to speak.

Canute and his Courtiers.
Canute and his Courtiers.

Annie spoke next "of a king dressed in his royal robes, seated on the sea-shore; he looks calmly and quietly at the waves, which roll one over another in beautiful succession, splashing his face with their silvery spray, and wetting his feet with their briny waters, whilst the sea-weeds cling to his regal attire. The courtiers are eagerly watching the waves, any thing but pleasure depicted in their countenances, and they look very much afraid of getting wet. The king is pointing with one hand to a mark set in the sand, over which the ocean is proudly dashing."

"Oh, Annie! that is too easy," exclaimed Mary.

"Not at all," interrupted Mrs. Arabin, "if it teach us to remember the lesson which the story is so well able to teach."

Mrs. Macdonald then proceeded to describe a scene where a haughty, fierce-looking man is standing by an open grave, from which his attendant soldiers are taking a body; the pale features of the corpse appear to resemble those of the proud king, who points to his followers to convey the body to the adjacent river. The bystanders are clothed in loose dresses like a carter's frock, bound round the waist by a belt, and only reaching to the knee; some have iron collars round their necks; most of them are bare-headed, but a few wear fur caps over their long hair, which, parted on the forehead, hangs down in straight locks on each side of the face. Their beards are shaven on the upper lip, and on the top of the chin; the rest long, clean and neat, divided in the middle, hangs down in two points; their shoes come up very high.

"Is that really in English history?" asked Louisa.

"Yes, my dear, about 1035."

Edward rejoined, "Canute ascended the throne 1017—he reigned eighteen years. I know, dear auntie."

Mrs. Arabin next began:—"My story is one which ought to lead us to stop and reflect; it relates to a banqueting hall, where a king and a wary-looking courtier are sitting together surrounded by attendants. The king looks earnestly and reproachfully at the nobleman, to whom he points with one hand, whilst the other is directed towards his own breast. The courtier, with a proud, defying look, yet with a lurking expression of conscious guilt, is raising a piece of bread to his half-opened mouth."

None of the party seemed able to guess this story, and even Mrs. Macdonald herself looked puzzled. Just then the door opened, and the words "Please, ma'am, the nursery tea is ready," interrupted the amusement for this evening.

Aunt Mary was then obliged quickly to tell, how that piece of bread choked the ambitious man, who so wickedly exclaimed that he hoped the next morsel might be his last, if he had ever intended any ill against his king.

"Are not those dangerous sands off the coast of Kent supposed to mark the possessions of this designing earl?" asked Edward.

"Yes, my love, and therefore I contend that the name should be spelt with but one o, thus restoring it to its purer Saxon form."


1. Death of Edmund. A.D. 948.

2. Welsh tribute.

3. Death of Edward the Martyr. A.D. 979.

4. Canute. A.D. 1017.

5. Harold. A.D. 1035.

6. Death of Earl Godwin. A.D. 1041.




CHAPTER III.

The following evening, Mrs. Macdonald, who had spent the day with an invalid friend, found all the children seated and ready to resume their historical amusement; her bonnet and shawl were soon taken from her, and leading her to a chair, all once more crowded round her.

"We could not begin without you, dear mama; but aunt has been so kind in entertaining us, that we have not been in the least impatient."

"As you have all had so much time to prepare, and I am tired," replied Mrs. Macdonald, "one of you must commence. Louisa, you look as if you had meditated on something with which to entertain us; let us hear your thoughts."

"That I am quite ready to do, and will beg you to follow me to a coronation; the king, about to have the crown placed on his head, is a man with strongly marked features and a stern expression, of the middle height, but showing great bodily power. His followers are dressed in armour, made of very small iron rings linked together like net-work, and so flexible, that it fits close to their bodies. The ceremony is not yet completed; the people inside the building are noisy in expressing their exultation and applause, but outside there are signs of a tumult; the mob, in its excited state, has set fire to the neighbouring houses, and is riotous in its indignation at some supposed evil."

"There has been more than one king whose accession to the throne has been against the wish of the nation," remarked Edward; "but I do not remember any opposition when they were crowned."

"I believe," said Mrs. Macdonald, "that this king was a foreigner, whose attendants had unjustly feared that their prince was betrayed."

"You have guessed it, I see, mama."

"And so have I," exclaimed an exulting little voice; "I think they spoke a different language from our last night's Saxon friends. Annie, it is now your turn."

"I shall," she directly began, "describe a quieter scene than the noisy event just represented. A royal lady, with a mild, rather intellectual countenance, is seated with her attendant ladies, busily employed in working a large piece of tapestry. The history she is carefully depicting appears to absorb her very much, and her industry has produced the representation of some stirring scenes, for on her work we descry horses, and riders, ships, soldiers, &c."

"Your picture is rather a short one," said Louisa, "but interesting from the fact of the lady having been so worthy of admiration. I should not like to have been born in those days, for I do not like working, and they seem to have done nothing else."

"There are certainly large pieces of work said to have been executed in this reign, but many believe female minds were more cultivated than we suppose. Matilda of Flanders has been drawn with a book in her hand, as if she were in the habit of reading, and by some means had formed elegant tastes. Emily, you have long been silent; try and puzzle us this time."

"I should like to do so, mama, but I fear the story I now relate will soon be discovered. The scene is not laid in England, but near the coast of an adjacent country, an exposed rock, on the summit of which there was a castle but indifferently defended. A long siege had so much weakened the garrison, that few were able to protect the prince who led them; they were forced to surrender to the enemy at the foot of the rock, who had anxiously expected the moment when starvation would conquer their courage. The prince knelt to the victor for mercy; life was granted; but he was cast out, with a few faithful followers, to find shelter and support from any who would take pity on him."

"We were sure Emily would tell us something pathetic; it is a very pretty story, but we cannot think who it is. Were there old men, women, and children turned out, and taken care of by the besiegers?"

"No, it was not the taking of Calais by Edward III. I ought to have told you that the rock was an island."

"Mama," whispered Alfred, who had secured his mother's lap, "do you ask questions, for I am tired, and want to know."

Mrs. Macdonald indulged him, and begged to know if the conquered and the conqueror were related to each other.

"Oh! mama, Emily moves her head to say yes. We know now; when little boys I think they quarreled, because one of them threw a bucket of water over the other; if they began so early to fight, no wonder they hated each other in after life."

"Can any of you tell me," enquired their aunt, "what celebrated building was erected in this reign? William, if you retain your wish to study law, you may some day know more of its interior."

"I can tell you, mama; it was Westminster Hall; the Tower of London was also much added to, some say commenced in this reign."

"Yes, but has been still more enlarged and altered since. Your aunt mentioned Earl Godwin last night; it was in this reign that the lands which had belonged to him were overflowed."

"I remember," said Alfred, looking very solemn as he thought of his death; "but now, dear Edward, do tell us something funny."

"That will not be very easy," replied his cousin; "and I dare say mama could obey your request much better than I can."

"I will tell a story next," exclaimed Willie; "the consequences were sad, but the beginning will please Alfred. You must witness the toilet of a king, and fancy he has taken a new scarlet cloak from his attendant's hands; he tries in vain to fasten the hood, he pulls and struggles, but the material will not bear such treatment, and is soon torn."

"I think," said Mrs. Macdonald, "you have, to please your little brother, chosen a curious specimen of your powers of memory."

"Indeed, mama, Holinshed is my authority; the sad end is, that the cloak was sent to the king's brother, who, he said, had a smaller head than his; this so hurt his brother's feelings, that he refused all nourishment, and died in a few days. He was the king's prisoner at the time."

For some minutes all seemed inclined to think Willie had told them too silly a story to take any trouble about; but their mother reminded them that the exercise of thought was the same. "Did the king," she asked, "die a year after his poor brother?"

"Yes, mama, in 1135."

"Then," added Louisa, "they were the same brothers who fought at St. Michael's rock; and I think the king died from eating too much of a favourite dish of fish."

"How smart the scarlet cloak must have been," remarked Alfred.

"You might have liked that," replied his mother, "but you would not have admired the shoes they wore in those days; the toes had such long points that they were fastened to the knee by a chain. Willie must not take your turn, Edward."

"My history, mama, will be very different; for I wish to describe a fine vessel tossed about on the waves of the English Channel. Her destruction is evident; and, in their eagerness, some of the poor perishing creatures crowd into a boat, which is already full. It stays to rescue one other female: a prince holds out his arms to her; she is caught, and you trust saved; but too many follow her, and the boat being overloaded, struggles for a short time with the elements, and then sinks with all on board, never to rise again."

One of the party whispered, "The young prince's father was never seen to smile again."

"You are quite right, Mary; now let us hear your anecdote."

"My scene is laid in winter; the snow covers the country; a town is besieged, and the soldiers are quietly resting at night, expecting that the dreadful scarcity of provisions will soon make the enemy surrender. Four figures, as white as the snow over which they hastily move, have issued from a postern-door; they have crossed the frozen river, and are now escaping the sentinels, who seem to be ignorant of their flight."

"Mama," said Alfred, "they must have been white bears. I saw one in the Zoological Gardens, and Annie was so afraid it would get out."

"I remember the circumstance, and that one little boy was thoughtless enough to teaze his sister, which was a silly way of trying to overcome her foolish fears. She will, I am sure, conquer them herself, when she finds how much they interfere with her usefulness. I think Edward's account relates to a scene in England, and the white bear is only found in the Polar Seas."

"Was not one of the fugitives a woman, Edward?" asked one of his cousins; "and had she not a young son who met her on this occasion?"

"Yes, he joined his mother on her escape from Oxford at Wallingford. Mama, are there not some curious accounts of their escapes?"

"Yes; the royal mother was taken to Oxford in a litter, as if she had been a corpse; on another occasion she mounted a swift horse, and rode with the greatest speed from Winchester to Devizes. She was an intrepid, courageous woman, and had been chosen by her father, Henry I., to succeed him; before his death he made his nobles swear fealty to her."

The hour for leaving their favourite game had now arrived: and with repeated hopes of renewing it the next evening, they bade good-bye to their kind mother.


1. Coronation of William I. A.D. 1066.

2. Matilda of Flanders working her husband's conquests.

3. William II. besieging Prince Henry at St. Michel. A.D. 1088.

4. Henry I. sending his cloak to his brother Robert. A.D. 1125.

5. The loss of the "White Ship." A.D. 1120.

6. The escape of the Empress Maude from Oxford. A.D. 1141.




CHAPTER IV.

"The subject of my picture to-night," said Mrs. Macdonald, when the party was again assembled round a cheerful fire, "is that of a young man, apparently about twenty-one years of age; his features are handsome, particularly his eyes; his form is graceful, about the middle height; he has a manly, military bearing; in his helmet he wears a piece of a small-leaved plant, and with one hand he is encouraging some workmen, who are busily engaged in pulling down a castellated building. All seem to be working cheerfully under him; and he is so gentle in appearance, that the little children are not afraid to come near him, and look at the warlike ornaments of his dress. In the distance some soldiers, evidently of a different country to the rest of the people, are embarking in boats, with all their baggage."

"Were those the Romans going away, mama?" demanded Annie.

"No, my love; the building and the dress show a more advanced state of civilization than our country presented at the time of their invasion; besides, there is a trace of Saxon descent in my hero's countenance."

"Did he derive his Saxon blood from his grandmother?" asked Edward.

"I see you have guessed, my dear boy."

"Edward is so clever, we have none of us any chance when he is here," exclaimed Mary.

"Your cousin," replied Mrs. Macdonald, "has acquired so much information by constant, persevering study and attention to what he has been taught, and you will learn as much if you apply as steadily."

"What was the flower the kind man wore in his helmet, mama?" enquired Alfred.

"Broom, which you must have seen growing on commons, and in grandpapa's garden. Henry and his descendants took their surname from this circumstance, planta being the Latin for plant, and genista for broom; hence the name—"

"Plantagenet," cried several voices at once.

"Did not the Romans speak Latin, mama?" asked Mary.

"Yes, my dear; and perhaps, Annie, you can tell me who wrote an account of the Roman invasion into Britain in the Latin language."

"Julius Cæsar, mama; his Commentaries principally relate to his wars in Gaul; and once when he was obliged to swim from the ship to save his life, he carried his arms in one hand, and his writings in the other."

"That would have made another good picture, mama," said Louisa to Mrs. Arabin; "but I think it is now your turn; you have not told us one to-night."

"Well, my dears, picture to yourselves the shore of a rocky island, lovely scenery in the distance; the faint smoke of a then tranquil volcano curling above the surrounding hills; soldiers, clad in coats of mail, bearing crosses on their shields, are preparing to embark in the numerous galleys which are waiting in the harbour; they yet stop for one, whose noble mien and princely appearance seem to show him the chief of the expedition; he is tenderly taking leave of a young and lovely woman, who wears a golden diadem on her head; a veil descends nearly to her feet, whilst a loose robe scarcely conceals the graceful figure enveloped in its folds. Behind the pair stands an elderly matron, trying to separate them, yet evidently with some reluctance."

Richard I. parting with Berengaria.
Richard I. parting with Berengaria.

"That was a sad parting, aunt," said Emily; "and I think the young lady was not then married."

"You are right."

The rest of the party confessed themselves puzzled.

"Did you hear me say that the soldiers wore crosses?"

"Oh! that tells the tale," replied Annie.

Edward next began as follows:—"The scene of my picture is in the precincts of a castle: a bold, intrepid looking figure on horseback is seeking for the easiest place of attack, whilst at a small window in the turret, depicted on the dark side of the picture, we descry an archer aiming his bow and arrow at the figure below."

After some little deliberation, the supposed subject was confidentially whispered to mama, who thought it was a right guess, after which the name was more boldly mentioned.

"I am now going to tell a very shocking story," commenced Mary. "The scene is a prison; cold stone walls, narrow windows, iron bars, and rough seats, give no idea of comfort. A kind-looking man is seated in the centre of the group, covering his face with one hand, whilst the other rests on the head of a pretty boy, who looks beseechingly in his face. The other figures are busily engaged heating some curiously-shaped iron instruments."

"That is the poor, dear little prince who had his eyes put out by his naughty uncle," cried Alfred, delighted at being able to guess one of the many scenes described.

"I have heard the truth of that story doubted," remarked Mrs. Arabin.

"So have I," rejoined her sister; "but it is a legend which has become so mixed up with history, that it is difficult to ascertain its truth, and it is as well to know the tale. Now, my dear children, picture to yourselves a battle. It appears to be an engagement during a civil war, for the dress and appearance of the opponents are exactly alike. There is a gloom spread over the whole picture; the redness of sunset has scarcely faded away, and the moon is appearing in the horizon. On one side we see an infirm monarch in the grasp of a soldier, who, with his hand raised to strike the fatal blow, seems to hesitate with astonishment. On the other side, one of princely deportment is attracted by a voice from the spot where the scene I have just described is taking place. By his side a noble figure has just had his horse killed under him."

Louisa guessed this picture, and asked, "Was it not this prince whose life was saved in the Holy Land by his wife's sucking the poison from a wound in his arm?"

"So it is said," answered Mrs. Macdonald, "but the truth of the statement is very much doubted. Now we will stop for this evening, as I hear papa's knock; perhaps he may be able to come home early to-morrow, and help us to puzzle each other."

"Oh! that will be nice," cried all the little voices at once. "But how I should like to puzzle papa," added Willie; "I will read history all the morning, when I have done my lessons."

"Very well, my dear; your leisure hours will then be profitably employed, although the motive may be to give papa a difficult subject rather than a love of information on your own part. But here comes papa."

Mr. Macdonald now entered the room amidst the din of little voices, all crying at once, "Do come home early to-morrow, dear papa." "Please do, uncle."


1. Henry II. pulling down the castles erected by Stephen, and discharging the foreign soldiers. A.D. 1154.

2. Richard I. parting with Berengaria, at Messina. A.D. 1189.

3. Death of Richard Coeur de Lion. A.D. 1199.

4. Prince Arthur. A.D. 1199.

5. Battle of Evesham. May 14th, A.D. 1265.




CHAPTER V.

"Papa has promised to come home early this evening," repeated the children to each other; "we must not begin without him. Mama, do you think he will be long?"

"No, my dears, I expect him every minute; but he may be detained by business, and you must not be disappointed if he should not come as soon as you desire."

"We will try and not complain," they answered, in a tone that showed they would be much inclined to do so if they had the trial.

"You need not frighten yourselves," said their aunt; "he is now on the stairs."

The door was quickly opened for him, and he was begged to make haste and seat himself, whilst poor baby was prohibited from paying her visit to him till they had finished.

"You are expected to commence," said Mrs. Arabin, "and to puzzle the whole party."

But papa did not consider that it was at all fair he should be directly made to task himself. He reminded them that he had never seen the game played, and promised that if their mama would begin, he would speak after her.

"I am quite ready to do so," said Mrs. Macdonald; "and my first picture will show you a little child of not more than three years of age. She is laid on a bed of sickness, and the deepest anxiety may be traced in her attendants' countenances. Whispers of fear at the consequences of her death are escaping them. The child herself, had she been capable, would have been thankful for her release: she was a queen, and even at her early age, by her marriage, the nation had decreed she should secure a sister-country's interest for her own people. Her ladies in vain exert all the means that can be thought of to restore her; she was called from earth in her pure, bright innocence."

"Was her name Anne, mama?"

"No; you are thinking of Earl Warwick's daughter, who married Prince Edward, the son of Edward the Fourth, and whose dreadful, early death you all have heard of. My little bride was a young queen of Scotland."

"Let papa guess now," said Alfred.

"Then I shall ask, was the bride the daughter of the king of Norway?"

"You are right, and must not now refuse us your history."

"I have no desire to do so; and you must all take a journey with me into Scotland, for I wish to be present at a coronation in that country; we shall find a lady asserting the right of her family to crown all the kings of the nation. She was the only representative of it then able to perform the ceremony: she places the diadem on the brow of one destined to continual struggles for liberty; his countenance bespeaks prudence, valour, and great enthusiasm."

"I think, George," remarked Mrs. Macdonald, "you have taken a scene from Scottish annals. We have at present confined ourselves to English history. You have, however, puzzled the children, I perceive."

"I did not, you must remember, hear any of your rules; but I shall expect the true answer to my account to be given in five minutes by my watch."

"Oh, mama! how cruel papa is; pray help us."

"I think your father spoke of a Countess Buchan."

Ignorance was still confessed, till a hint was given of a spider having urged the same hero in after life to persevere in toil and exertions; the riddle was now soon solved.

"I have a story," said Mary, "of a great indignity that was once offered to a royal prisoner, by the orders of the hard-hearted man who had the custody of him. His attendants had brought some water out of a dirty ditch to shave him with; the poor victim meekly submitted; the tears trickled down his cheeks, and he murmured, 'Here is clean warm water, whether you will or no.'"

The question of "Was he not a king, and born in Wales?" showed that this subject was known.

"The wicked queen, I think," said Annie, "put him into prison, and thus caused all these indignities."

"Yes; she took advantage of the naturally weak disposition of her husband. Now, Charles, you who have only returned from school to-day ought to give us a capital recital."

"I fear my historical characters are of an earlier date than yours, and are more Grecian and Roman heroes; but I will do my best. In a retired room of a castle, no longer standing, there were two people sitting together in apparent security; the lady had the air and manners of a Frenchwoman, but her expression was disagreeable, giving the idea of a cruel, deceitful person. The gentleman also had no very pleasing aspect; in the midst of their conversation a secret door is broken open, and a king, with men following him, seize and carry away the man, in spite of the female's earnest entreaties."

"Mary, Queen of Scots," ventured an undecided voice.

"No; Darnley was not a king."

"Was the lady a queen, and mother to the person who forced away her companion?"

"And I think," exclaimed another of the circle, as the truth broke upon them, "the queen begged them to have pity on the gentle Mortimer."

"Quite right," was Charles's answer; "her entreaties were, however, disregarded, for he was soon after hanged on a gibbet at Tyburn: it appears a very hard-hearted act, but I suppose the young king believed it to be the only way to render himself free from the authorities who governed his youth."

"I conclude the step was considered a politic one," added Mrs. Macdonald; "but it is always difficult to me to reconcile man's right to take away the life that we know was given for some wise purpose. Suppose we give papa hard work now we have secured him, and let him relate every story till it is time to leave off our game."

Papa in vain begged they would not be so unjust; the proposal was thought so excellent, that directly Alfred would leave off clapping his hands, he good-naturedly acquiesced:—

"A field of battle presents all the usual horrors, but in one respect has a particular that I do not think is paralleled. An aged king is to be seen in all the perils of the day; he is well mounted, and a knight rides on each side of him, leading his horse; if you examine him, you will find that he is blind, and has braved danger to assist the French. The motto on his shield was 'Ich dien,' which means, 'I serve.'"

"I am sure," said Alfred, "he was very foolish to go to battle. He could not see who would attack him, and he prevented the two knights from fighting. I do not know anything about such a silly old man."

"I am not sure when I told the story that I expected you to give me the answer, Alfred."

"Did he lose his life?" inquired Edward.

"Yes, I am sure he did," interrupted Emily; "the scene was in France, and the chief leader of the English party was a youthful prince, famed for his courage and amiable character."

"My next picture," resumed Mr. Macdonald, "shall be a crowded street, with banners flying from every window; arches of boughs and flowers, with many other signs of joy and exultation. A procession passes amidst deafening applause; the principal figures are a king, dressed in his royal robes, and mounted on a beautiful steed; the other, much younger, with an attractive expression of countenance, rides at his side on a small palfrey. The people bestow their chief attention and admiration on the latter."

"Did he not," asked the children, "once wait on this same king at his supper?"

"Yes; I see your favourite is again revealed. This was a reign full of glorious acts, but peaceful improvements were not forgotten. Windsor Castle was rebuilt and enlarged; many other restorations were executed, and much attention was paid to the laws. Ever since William the Conqueror's reign they had been in Norman-French; they were now written in English. I think I have now done my part towards this evening's amusement."

"One more story, please, dear papa."

"Indeed, uncle," said the little girl next to him, "we have time to listen to one more, if you will be so good as to tell it to us."

This last appeal could not be resisted, and the river Thames was next described:—"It has seldom presented so curious a scene as that I now relate. A king was in his royal barge, surrounded by a few of his noblemen. On the shore there are at least ten thousand of the rabble awaiting his approach; their frightful cries, when they see the vessel, so terrifies the royal party, that they turn the boat's head, and escape to the Tower."

"You have now given us a very difficult one, papa."

"I hope I have; I shall not tell you any more to-night, and you may be as long as you like asking questions."

The nurse now entered, and not liking them to keep her waiting, Mrs. Macdonald told them that Wat Tyler afterwards headed the rabble.

"Then we know the whole history, mama, and will wait for some more stories till another evening."


1. The death of the young queen of Scotland, and infant daughter of the king of Norway.

2. Coronation of Robert Bruce. A.D. 1307.

3. Edward the Second insulted by Maltravers. A.D. 1327.

4. Death of Mortimer, Earl of March. A.D. 1331.

5. The king of Bohemia at the battle of Cressy. A.D. 1345.

6. Edward the Black Prince returning in triumph to London. A.D. 1356.

7. Richard the Second meeting the insurgents at Rotherhithe. A.D. 1381.




CHAPTER VI.

"Mama," said Mary, one evening, "I have been reading a story to-day, which shall be my picture to-night. You must imagine a court of law, the judge raised on a high seat with all the lawyers round him; he looks sad yet firm. Before him stands a royally dressed young man in the act of drawing his sword, his face beaming with anger, and a haughty defying look on his proud mouth. Officers of justice are securing him, and another prisoner stands near."

"Was the prisoner old or young, Mary?" asked Louisa.

"Young," was the answer.

"Was it Charles I.?"

"No. Charles I. was forty-nine years of age when he was tried, and I do not think he offered any resistance."

"I have it," said Emily; "but, Mary, how was the prince royally drest?"

"He wore a tight waistcoat with a loose robe over it, and a richly embroidered girdle, from which hung a bag."

"I have heard," said Mrs. Macdonald, "that on one occasion your prince was said to have been dressed in a blue satin robe full of eylet holes, and from each hole hung the needle with which it was worked; but I am happy to say that if gentlemen's dress be less graceful in the present day, it is at any rate less effeminate and fantastical."

"But how did the ladies dress?" asked Annie.

"High head-dresses with long streamers of ribbon floating from them, short waists, long, full, flowing petticoats trimmed with fur, and large sleeves ending in a pouch, which was used as a pocket. Their dresses were made of silk or stuff, but the poorer classes wore coarse flannel or fustian. But, Edward, it is a long time since you have described a picture; it is your turn now."

"My picture," he answered, after a few moments' deliberation, "is of a field of battle seen under the grey sky of morning. No very large number of men is disposed so as to look as numerous as possible; the archers are in front, whilst before them are placed sharp stakes pointed with iron. A kingly figure rides up and down the line, clad in glittering armour, and wearing a crown of gold ornamented with precious stones. The opposite party appears much more numerous."

"Are they French and English?" asked Willie.

"That is rather a leading question," answered Edward; "but if you think they may be, name the battle to which I refer."

"Creci?"

"No."

"Poictiers?"

"No."

"Then I know what it must be," exclaimed Mary; "one of the French leaders was killed early in the day, after which they made no more resistance, and the English became victorious. Now, Annie, it is your turn."

Annie then described a parliament, where grave men were listening to a gentleman who held in his arms a little baby, who plays with the royal ball; he also holds papers sealed with large seals.

"Did not the baby cry when he saw all those gentlemen?" asked Alfred.

"He does not cry in my picture," answered Annie; "he looks very good, and almost as if he were listening to what was being said around him."

This subject was guessed, and Mrs. Arabin proceeded to describe "a besieged town, surrounded by the besiegers; at the head of whom, mounted on a charger, is a young woman apparently about twenty-seven years of age. Look well in her face: you see no want of courage there, yet no masculine coarseness—a calm dignity pervades her countenance. She wears a helmet, a sword is by her side, and she carries a white standard on which is depicted the Virgin Mary. But I need not go on, for I see by your faces that you have already guessed my heroine. When you are a little more advanced in German, Edward, you must read Schiller's beautiful play founded on this history."

"Was she not burnt as a witch?" enquired Mary.

"That is a disputed point," answered her aunt; "some writers say this was her fate at Rouen, but others state that she returned to her native village, Domrenci, and married."

"I hope she did," added Emily; "but do you think, mama, there are such people as witches?"

"No, my love," replied Mrs. Arabin; "only the ignorant and superstitious believe in them; and in former days, when there was less knowledge, and above all, less knowledge of true religion, such a belief was very common. Some persons in Dorsetshire and in Lincolnshire, are foolish enough to credit their existence even now."

"May I tell a story, mama?" asked Willie.

"Certainly, my child."

"Well, then, you must fancy a small dark room with but little furniture in it, the cold stone walls plainly telling us that the royal person in the midst of the group is a prisoner. He is preparing to undress, whilst attendants are taking the head off an immense butt of liquid; it looks like wine, for the man nearest to the cask appears as if he would like a little very much."

"Perhaps he would," remarked Mary; "but I think your hero soon had more than he liked."

"Mary has guessed," said Willie. "Louisa, you never tell any stories; do try and relate something very pretty."

"Something more about little babies," added Alfred.

"That is rather hard," said Louisa, "for little babies have not often much to do in history or pictures either; but I think I can tell you a very shocking story about two little boys, who were one night fast asleep in bed, in a large room. Two men carrying lanterns have crept softly up to them, and are just putting the pillows and bolsters over their poor little faces."

"Oh! do not tell me any more about that story," interrupted Alfred; "tell me about soldiers again. I do not like it," he added, nestling his head on his mama's shoulder. "Miss Graham told me that story in the school-room one day, and I cried; I could not help it, mama."

"If that story be really true, it is indeed shocking," said Mrs. Macdonald; "but I believe the mode of the little princes' death is very much questioned: however, it is certain that their wicked uncle did make away with them in some manner."

"Mama, I should not like to have the world for my own," added Alfred, "if there were such wicked people in it; they might come and smother me in my little bed."


1. Prince Henry and Chief Justice Gascoigne. A.D. 1405.

2. Battle of Agincourt. October 24th, 1415.

3. Earl of Warwick presenting Henry VI. to the Parliament. A.D. 1422.

4. Joan of Arc before Orleans. May 8th, 1429.

5. Death of the Duke of Clarence. A.D. 1478.

6. Murder of the Princes in the Tower. A.D. 1483.




CHAPTER VII.

The children never failed to join their mamas at the usual time, and sometimes were almost inclined to believe it was dark, and time to shut the shutters, earlier than the ladies wished. This evening they had a lesson in good humor, for a visitor stayed so long that the period for commencing arrived and passed, without his giving any signs of leaving; but he was scarcely down stairs before they began to arrange themselves round the fire.

"While Mr. White was here, mama," said Edward, "I formed our first picture."

"I noticed," remarked his aunt, "that you were the quietest of the party, and it is now accounted for. By exercising your mind, you ensured polite behaviour. We are all quite ready to listen."

"Although I wish to represent a field of battle, I shall only call your attention to one part of it. A single, armed man is fighting desperately for his life; his helmet is so beaten by the blows it has received, that all shape is lost. He seems to desire to aim his chief fury at a person apparently of some importance, who shews no disposition to meet the attack: his followers, however, are less scrupulous, and he is killed on the banks of a brook which long remained stained with his blood."

"What was your hero like, Edward?"

"There seems," he replied, "a difference of opinion on that point. Some historians say that although his features were homely, the expression was princely and sensible; others inform us, that he was deformed, and unpleasing in every way."

The next question was, "Do most of them agree in saying that he had one shoulder higher than the other, and was sometimes called Crookback?"

"Yes. But who can tell me what he exclaimed as he rushed on to the Earl of Richmond?"

"Treason! Treason! Treason!" readily cried Willie.

"As you are in such a hurry to answer, Willie, you shall entertain us next," said his mother.

"Certainly, mama, I have a story quite ready; and you must all fancy you see a sacred edifice, which has been the scene of many of our interesting historical annals. We are on the outside, and against its holy walls we see a scaffold erected, but there is no execution to be perpetrated. A youth of singularly dignified and fascinating appearance stands with a paper in his hand, from which he reads a declaration to the crowds, who have flocked from all quarters."

This story puzzled the children for a long time; even the ladies could not at first remember the fact. "Was he a king?" asked one.

"No; he on that occasion confessed that he was not of royal blood."

"Was he the only impostor obliged to relinquish his pretensions in that reign?" enquired Mrs. Arabin.

The answer that he was the second, solved the mystery.

Annie next took her turn, and gave an account of the meeting of two kings. It was in another country, although the ground on which it took place belonged to the English; the different suites were lodged around their respective masters. At the moment I have selected, the two latter appear to have been wrestling; one has been conquered, and has fallen; he is of a fresh and ruddy complexion, and of an athletic form, which shew great expertness in his companion to have vanquished him."

"It is certainly an uncommon thing," said Willie, "for two monarchs to fight like schoolboys; is it really in English history?"

Wolsey arriving at Leicester.
Wolsey arriving at Leicester.

"Yes. I have merely related facts; they gave more than one proof of their familiarity, and one had a few days before gone to the other early in the morning whilst he was yet asleep. This unceremonious visit seems to have produced the freedom of intercourse I have just described."

"Whom can you mean, Annie?"

"I think I can tell you," said Emily; "the incident you have mentioned was at the time believed to be a mere jest, but the vanquished never entirely forgave his opponent; they were a French and an English king."

"You have discovered the truth," replied Mrs. Macdonald, "and I will now continue. A cavalcade has approached an abbey; a sick man, scarcely able to bear the exertion, is mounted on a mule; he shows every symptom of approaching death, but even then his former life might be traced in the troubled expression still visible on his face; his days have been spent in intrigues. The entreaty for admission into the monastery is granted, and the abbot kindly receives him. He is lifted from the mule, and carried to his bed, from which he never rose again."

"The only similar instance I can now remember," said Edward, "is that of Charles V., and this would be the history of Germany instead of England."

"You have," rejoined his aunt, "guessed the period of my account nearer than you think. Charles V. went to the monastery of St. Justus some time before his death, which was in the year 1558; the person I have brought before your notice was taken to Leicester Abbey almost in his last hours, and it was twenty-eight years before the emperor's death."

"I think," added Mrs. Arabin, "both were more than once concerned in the same schemes and intrigues."

"Was not your hero disappointed of becoming a pope, mama?"

"I see by your question that he is known to you. This prelate's ambition and consequent life of struggle, affords one of the strongest lessons in history, and his latter days were rendered miserable by the passions of his earlier career. I think, Mary, you must remember his rooms at Hampton Court."

"Yes, I do, mama; a beautiful carved wood screen was said to have belonged to him."

"I will now resume our game," said Mrs. Arabin. "A lady is seen sitting with one attendant, who appears to have been trying to lighten her cares by playing a mandolin; but her mistress's brow, although serene, is overcast; she knows she has been treated unjustly; she may also mourn for a little daughter, whose prospects are blighted by her mother's troubles. There are traces of splendor around, and the books and employments of the recluse convince us of her talents and accomplished tastes."

"Do you mean Lady Jane Grey, aunt?"

"No, my dear; my heroine had numbered more years than the poor young creature of whom you are thinking."

"Was she a queen?"

"She had been."

"Then I can tell you; she was the divorced wife of a king of England. Do please, Louisa, make haste, and we can have one more anecdote before tea, although we were so late in beginning."

"I must not hurry my story too much, or you will not be able to guess it. Picture to yourselves a garden, which in the days I speak of would have been considered a beautiful specimen of horticulture, but which we should now think stiff and formal; the long, straight, broad walks, however, present an appearance of grandeur, which we see in none of the present day. A pulpit had been placed among the green boughs, from which a holy and venerable man is preaching to a small congregation; in the centre of the group is a young man, so attentively listening that hours have past away, and he is not yet tired. His countenance is remarkably attractive and beautiful, especially his eyes, whilst religious reverence for the doctrine he hears, is shewn in his whole deportment."

"Going to church in the open air!" exclaimed Alfred; "I am very glad, mama, that you do not take me to a beautiful garden every Sunday; I am afraid I should watch the birds and butterflies instead of listening."

"I trust, my dear child," replied his mother, "that in these happier days, we may never know the privation of not having a house of God to enter."

"Could not this young gentleman find one, mama?"

"Not so easily as we could; the religion we profess was not then so firmly established, although Louisa's hero did all in his power to spread it throughout his dominions. But I believe his habit of attending Latimer in the royal garden, was from preferring the open air to the more confined atmosphere of a chapel."

"Thank you, mama, you have told us of whom Louisa was thinking; your mentioning Latimer and the royal gardens tells the secret."

"I certainly did not mean to enlighten you; but I am glad I have done so, as now you need not keep poor baby waiting for her tea."


1. Death of Richard III. A.D. 1485.

2. Perkin Warbeck's public declaration of his imposture. A.D. 1499.

3. Henry VIII. and Francis I. meeting on the "Field of the Cloth of Gold."

4. Death of Cardinal Wolsey. A.D. 1530.

5. Catherine of Aragon. A.D. 1536.

6. Edward VI. and Bishop Latimer. A.D. 1553.




CHAPTER VIII.

Mrs. Arabin commenced this evening's entertainment, and described as follows: "A young lady, with an intellectual countenance, seated in the midst of books, some of which appear to be written in Greek characters. She is evidently weeping bitterly, and two men dressed in black are apparently talking to her, and showing her some papers."

"Was she beautiful?" asked Emily.

"Yes."

"Mary, Queen of Scots?" guessed one.

"No."

"Catherine of Aragon?"

"No."

A pause ensued; at last Mrs. Arabin was asked to give them some little clue to the history.

"She was famed for her learning; indeed, so much so as to be styled by historians, the wonder the age."

"She and her husband were shortly afterwards beheaded, were they not?" demanded Edward.

"Quite right," was the reply.

Mrs. Macdonald then began: "On a large open space, surrounded by ancient buildings, is assembled a large crowd of persons, some of whom appear to be preparing wood for burning around two stakes, placed at some distance from each other. Near the one stands a very aged, white-haired man with a Bible in his hand; he who stands near the other pile is younger in appearance, but they both wear an expression of calmness and resignation; indeed there is almost a look of joy in the elder man's countenance. A person dressed in black has ascended some elevated position to preach to them, and the younger victim is paying evident attention to his discourse."

"Was Archbishop Cranmer one of the sufferers, mama?" asked one little voice.

"No."

"Hooper or Ridley?" suggested Edward.

"No; after their death."

"Then I think I know who they were," said Annie; "but did only bishops suffer?"

"No, my dear; besides five bishops, there were twenty-one clergymen, eight lay gentlemen, eighty-four tradesmen, a hundred husbandmen, fifty-five women, and four children."

"Had four children the courage to go through such pains for their religion?"

"Yes, my love, but not in their own strength; their weak bodies and minds would have flinched, had they not been strengthened from above. We could all of us go through much more than we think ourselves capable of, if we did but seek for help from God; and if we try to go on alone, without looking to Him, no wonder that we fail."

Edward next began. "My picture represents a very, very small room, almost a closet; its one window faces the door. Here a very beautiful woman is sitting at supper with a foreign-looking man and some of her attendant ladies, and a guitar lies near them. The principal lady looks much agitated, for some figures have cautiously advanced to the back of her favorite, and, with daggers in their hands, are trying to pull him from his seat."

Edward's description was soon guessed by even the younger children, who were well pleased at having an opportunity of shewing their learning.

Annie's turn came next, and she told of "a sea-engagement. Numerous and large ships seem to be taking shelter in a port, the white cliffs near which correspond with those of our own shore at Dover. The vessels, smaller in number and size, appear to have the best of the day; much explosion is going on amongst the enemy's fleet, whilst some small ships bearing the English colors, have penetrated quite into the midst of their opponents."

"I wish your sailors would talk, Annie," said Willie; "for if I knew what language they spoke, I might tell what naval engagement you mean. Was it the battle of Trafalgar?"

"No; that took place in the open sea."

"The battle of the Nile?" asked Mary.

"Much earlier than that, Mary."

"All battles are alike," said Willie.

"All battles are not fought under the shelter of chalk cliffs."

"Did you not say that those who were attacked by the English were thus screening themselves?"

"I did."

"Then it could not be Dover or Deal. Oh! they must have been Frenchmen," continued Willie.

"Not Frenchmen," said Edward, seeing the others puzzled, "but the natives of a country very close by."

Louisa then described a scene where "a platform, covered with black, is surrounded by armed men, and a crowd of the populace. A man of noble appearance has his throat bared, his head laid on the block, and the executioner stands ready to strike the fatal stroke; when his hand is arrested by some one near, who points to a royal messenger riding at full speed through the mob."

A long pause ensued after Louisa had finished; even the two mamas looked puzzled.

"You may ask three questions and no more," said Louisa, triumphantly.

"Was the victim a king?" enquired Mary.

"Hush, Mary," cried Emily, as she saw the ardent little girl about to open her mouth again.

"Had he a friend who was also reprieved at the same late hour?" asked Mrs. Macdonald.

"You have guessed it, aunt, I see," replied Louisa.

"Not quite; at least I am not sure."

"Pray let me have the next question," interrupted Mrs. Arabin; "for although I remember the accounts of many executions, I do not recollect the circumstance of two friends being pardoned when the fatal axe was hanging over them. I am half afraid of wasting my question, therefore I must be cautious."

The children clapped their hands when they saw their aunt puzzled, and, as a great favor, Mrs. Arabin was allowed a fourth question, if she would but be quick in saying something; to which Alfred cordially added, "Please do, dear auntie."

"You are rather impatient, my dears, and I am sorry I cannot give you a lesson in patience; but I neither need your third or your fourth answers, as I have discovered your history to have taken place in the reign of James the First."

Much disappointment was expressed when auntie was pronounced "too clever."

"My picture to-night," said Emily, "tells of a scheme very dreadful in its motives as well as gloomy in its preparations for fulfilment; a vaulted roof is scarcely to be distinguished through the dark shades. A figure is walking through these gloomy passages, evidently seeking something; opposite him is a figure with a dark lantern in his hand, enveloped in a cloak."

"Gunpowder treason and plot should never be forgot," exclaimed Alfred; following his ejaculation with a loud "Hurrah!"

Papa's knock at the door interrupted the historical game for this evening, but mama promised to have them again on Monday evening during the dark hour; a season now as much looked forward to, as it was formerly dreaded.


1. Lady Jane Grey's accession announced to her. A.D. 1553.

2. Death of Latimer and Ridley. A.D. 1555.

3. Death of Rizzio. A.D. 1563.

4. Defeat of the "Spanish Armada." A.D. 1588.

5. Lord Cobham led to execution. A.D. 1602.

6. Gunpowder Plot. November 5th, 1605.




CHAPTER IX.

The next evening the children were agreeably surprised to hear their father knock at the door, just as they had arranged themselves ready for their favorite game. He was soon up stairs, and was warmly thanked for having returned so soon.

"I have," said he, "suffered much from headache this evening, and I thought this cheerful group might do me more good than anything."

"We must tell soft stories," said Alfred; "and as papa likes to hear you speak, mama, you had better begin."

The little boy's motive was so thoughtful, that Mrs. Macdonald agreed; and called their attention to three persons, whom she represented standing in a doorway. The foremost appeared to have turned to speak to the friend who followed him; their deportment showed perfect ease and ignorance of the danger near them. The third in the group is a man of a melancholy but enthusiastic countenance: his arm is stretched over the figure next to him, and he has plunged a dagger into the breast of his companion.

"This is a very dreadful story, mama. Was the wound fatal?"

"Yes. It was a duke who was the victim. The whole was so instantaneous, that no one saw the blow. He pulled the knife from the wound, exclaiming, 'The villain has killed me;' and fell dead at Sir Thomas Fryer's feet."

"That name ought to help us, aunt," said Edward. "I fear we are all very stupid; uncle, can you guess?"

"I think your aunt has described the death of a court favorite, in the time of Charles I."

"If you have, mama," said Mary, "the murderer's name was Felton; was it not?"

"Yes, my dear, you are quite right; now, perhaps, you can entertain us."

"My history," answered Mary, "relates to a very affecting scene. A family group meets for the last time on earth. A father, with deep grief depicted on his regular, handsome, although care-worn features, has a little boy about seven years old on his knee: he seems anxious to impress something of importance on the child's mind, who is listening to his father with his eyes fixed on him. An interesting little girl stands by his side, crying bitterly."

"I think," said Mrs. Macdonald, "if we help him a little, Alfred might name this subject. When we first began this game, he was very anxious to know more of this poor king, who was in prison; since then you have passed on to other reigns, but this incident you cannot forget."

"I will tell you," answered the little boy. "The poor dear little duke of Gloucester said, when his father told him not to be made king when he was dead, 'I will be torn in pieces first.'"

"You have answered quickly, dear child; and I am glad you remember so much."

Alfred was quite delighted, and begged that they would talk a long time about this king, and all that happened to him; and when he was reminded that this would not be agreeable to the rest of the party, he seemed a little disappointed. Mr. Macdonald noticing it, told him, as he had not urged his entreaties, he would reward him by telling him a story that would please him very much.

Cromwell and the Monkey.
Cromwell and the Monkey.

The little boy was instantly on his father's knee, who began to relate the following fact:—

"A large monkey is seen dancing about on the roof of a house with a baby in his arms. From the child's dress, he has evidently taken the infant from its cradle; the family seem greatly alarmed, and are spreading feather beds, carpets, and everything that is soft enough to break the violence of the child's fall. The animal shews no inclination to descend, and dances about with great glee."

"Oh, papa, did the poor child fall?"

"No; the monkey, which was quite tame, and a household favourite, carried it carefully down the same way he went up."

"You have indeed told me a funny story," said Alfred; "please some one make haste, and guess who it was."

"I think," said Mrs. Arabin, "that the baby became a very important person, and was one of the instruments of Charles's later troubles."

"Your aunt has told you," said Mr. Macdonald; "and I am now expecting a story from Edward."

"I have remembered a painful one, for the scene is a death-bed. A young and very beautiful woman is mustering her last strength, and making a final effort to impress some words on a man who leans over her. His countenance expresses deep affection and distress; the invalid is very dear to him, or he would not so patiently listen to arguments, which formerly even from her lips would have exasperated him; a family likeness may be traced between the two."

"Is it the death of a queen?"

"No, neither are royal, although the man rules the kingdom. After the circumstance I have just described, he never regained his cheerfulness."

"I think your hero was the baby whom the monkey danced on the roof of the house; and the lady was his youngest and favourite daughter."

"You are quite right, Louisa; and perhaps you can now take your turn as relator."

"I will speak first," said Mr. Macdonald; "I can so seldom join you, that I must take double share. You seem more inclined to show mercy towards me than last time I played with you, therefore you shall be rewarded. My picture is a very awful one: the whole of London is visited by a calamity; in every street, in every house, lie the dead and the dying. Grief is so settled in the hearts of all, that there are few to attend the last breath of those who still linger on earth; in one of the public thoroughfares some poor wretches have crawled out to listen to a man, who braves infection, and preaches to his miserable fellow-creatures. Dead bodies are carried by, and fear and misery hangs over all."

"Oh, papa!" cried the children, "we know what you mean; please do not relate any more, it is so very dreadful."

"It was indeed an awful visitation, my dears; but although we are not permitted to see why it was sent, we must not doubt the wisdom that ordained the trial. The following year was, you may remember, marked by another horrible dispensation; but this we are allowed to see was, in one respect, a blessing, for it entirely stopped the disease which killed hundreds at the time I have just mentioned. Louisa, I will no longer prevent your story being heard; it will, I trust, be less dismal than mine."

"I will endeavour to make it so," she replied. "You must fancy you see the coast of Dorsetshire, a place called Lyme. A man of prepossessing appearance has just landed; it is summer, and the sun shining on his face animates him with hope. He has only a hundred followers to fight in his behalf; he seems to be a great favourite with them; and in the distance may be seen small bodies of men advancing, it may be supposed, to join his cause."

"Was it Bolingbroke?"

"No: he landed at Ravensburgh, in Yorkshire."

"Did your hero aim at conquering England?"

"He pretended he was heir to the crown."

"Then I think if you will tell me whether he marched straight to London, or stayed to subdue the towns he passed through, I can say who it was."

"He chose the latter, and thus lost all chance of success; had he gone direct to the metropolis, he might have been victorious."

"The king, whom he wished to supplant," said Willie, "was, I think, dethroned not long afterwards, and succeeded by some one else, better able to conduct the affairs of England."

The subject was now known to all, and the game deferred until the next night.

"We have only two more evenings," remarked Emily, "before my aunt and cousins go, and we have agreed we cannot play at it without them."

"I hope," answered her mother, "they will soon pay us another visit, and we can then resume it, with, I trust, a better acquaintance with past events."


1. Death of Buckingham. A.D. 1628.

2. Charles I. taking leave of his children. A.D. 1649.

3. Oliver Cromwell seized by a tame monkey. A.D. 1593.

4. The death of Mrs. Claypole.

5. Solomon Eagle preaching during the Plague. A.D. 1665.

6. Landing of the Duke of Monmouth. A.D. 1685.




CHAPTER X.

William asked leave to commence the historical entertainment this evening, and the whole party begged for something very amusing, as the cold snow without, gave a cheerless look to all within, and poor Alfred complained of chilblains.

"I am going to describe a battle," said Willie; "the two contending armies are drawn up on opposite sides of a river; the surrounding scene bears marks of great poverty, nevertheless the inhabitants are a fine, generous-looking people. The principal figure in the group is standing on the bank, taking a survey of the enemy; he is of the middle height, with a high forehead, aquiline nose, fine eyes, and a very grave countenance. His thin form would give an idea of feebleness, were it not for the energy of the mind within. Two persons are lying dead by his side, and he himself appears to be wounded in the shoulder, but with the greatest composure is continuing to give his orders."

"That was a hero," said Edward; "I like to hear of mind overcoming bodily pain. Was it Edward III.?"

"No."

"The Duke of Marlborough?"

"You are getting nearer the time."

"Prince Eugene," said another.

"Prince Eugene was a cotemporary of the Duke of Marlborough."

"The person you mention was associated with some one else in the government of England, was he not?" said Edward.

"Yes, my dear boy."

"Was he not very much attached to his wife?"

"Yes; and all historians agree in giving her an amiable character, and in describing her person as pleasing."

"Did not William III. give Greenwich Hospital to disabled seamen?" asked Willie.

"Yes, my dear; it was formerly a royal palace. Queen Elizabeth was nursed there when a child. You young ladies can, perhaps, tell me what Queen Mary introduced into England."

"You must give us a clue, mama."

"It is something which tended to make women more industrious; but the revival of it in the present day, has, I fear, caused a great deal of time to be employed on it which might have been devoted to more useful objects."

"We know what you mean, mama; tent-stitch and cross-stitch; your last remark has told us."

Louisa then described a bed-chamber: "a high four-post bedstead, the canopy of which reaches to the ceiling: a coronet, surmounted by a plume of feathers, is raised over the crimson curtains at the foot: it is a bright and beautiful summer morning, but a pale, restless invalid seems incapable of enjoying it. She is wrapt in a loose robe, and stands with her eyes fixed on a large clock, which now-a-days we should, from its antique, cumbersome form, condemn to a staircase, or a kitchen; there is almost a vacant expression in her eyes, and an attendant lady looks enquiringly in her face. Who is my poor heroine?"

"Catherine of Aragon?" asked Emily.

"No, she was but a queen consort; my heroine was a queen regnant."

"Was it bloody Mary, who had the poor little children burnt?" said Alfred.

"No, my boy; but a similar circumstance, namely, that of leaving no descendants, preyed equally on the minds of these two royal personages, and hastened their deaths."

"I know," cried Willie; "but, dear mama, will you tell us what is the difference between a queen consort and a queen regnant?"

"A queen consort is the wife of a king; a queen regnant is one who reigns in her own right; a queen dowager is the widow of a king."

"Thank you, mama," said Willie; "now another story, if you please."

"You really give me no time to collect my thoughts; but it is a long while since your aunt has described a picture, and I think it is now her turn."

Mrs. Arabin then began:—"My scene is laid, where many of our scenes have been laid before, within the cold walls of a prison; but a strange circumstance is there taking place, very different to any you have yet depicted. A great interchange of clothing seems to be taking place. Three figures occupy the apartment; one lady is attiring herself in a riding dress, whilst another is assisting a dark man to put on a lady's costume; much anxiety is pourtrayed in the face of the latter lady, and none of them seem to think it as good a joke as Alfred does, to judge by his smiling face; the lady who is disrobing has a fair complexion and yellow hair."

"I suppose the gentleman intended to pass for the lady whose clothes he assumed," said Edward; "but how did they contrive to hide his dark hair?"

"By putting on a woman's wig of yellow hair, painting his eye-brows the same colour, and adding white and red paint to his cheeks."

"Your hero stands confessed, aunt," said Annie; "but what a courageous woman his wife must have been."

"True, my dear; but you must remember that the life of the dearest being she had on earth was at stake; and surely she would rather have died with him, than have left untried any plan which might offer a possibility of saving him, however dangerous it might be to herself."

"I am glad we do not live in such times now," said Louisa.

"You have reason to be so," replied Mrs. Arabin, "and we ought all to be deeply grateful for it; but I fear we take our blessings too much as matters of course; we seem to view them as our right, and only learn to appreciate them when justly deprived of them, or when we hear of the sufferings of others."

"Well, mama," added Edward, "if no other good arise from our perusal of history than that of making us more grateful for the blessings of peace and quiet times, we shall not have studied in vain."

"Edward, you do speak so like a book," exclaimed Willie, half impatient at this digression.

"Like a good book, however," answered Mrs. Macdonald; "for what your cousin has said is quite true. But, Emily, you have been silent a long time: let us now have a picture from you."

Emily complied. "The scene of my picture appears to be onboard a man-of-war. The numerous masts of other vessels near seem to indicate a harbour. An elderly man, dressed in an admiral's uniform, is kneeling down; some one stands behind him binding a handkerchief over his eyes; those immediately around appear to be his friends, judging by the sorrow depicted on their countenances. The admiral is in the act of raising his hand, as a signal to some soldiers arranged at the further end of the deck, and who have their muskets pointed at him."

All were puzzled by Emily's narration; and finding none of the children able to guess, Mrs. Arabin ventured to solve the mystery.

"I never clearly understood the exact cause of the Admiral's punishment, mama," said Willie; "will you explain it to me?"

"I will, my dear, as well as I can; but I think papa would be able to tell you better. During the war between France and England, in the reign of George II., Admiral Byng was sent out with ten ships of war to relieve Minorca, taking with him orders to throw a body of troops into the garrison. This he thought was venturing too much; and being surprised by the appearance of a French fleet, he gave orders to form in line of battle, and act on the defensive, instead of obeying the commands he had brought out. A part of the English fleet engaged, but the admiral still kept in the background. The French slowly sailed away, and no other opportunity offered of their coming to a closer engagement. But six o'clock strikes; therefore go, my darlings, and do not keep nurse waiting."


1. Battle of the Boyne. A.D. 1690.

2. Death of Queen Anne. A.D. 1714.

3. Escape of Lord Nithsdale. A.D. 1715.

4. Execution of Admiral Byng. A.D. 1758.




CHAPTER XI.

The children remembered, with much regret, that this was the last evening they could enjoy their historical game; the idea that their aunt and cousins would not be there to assist them, made it impossible for them to continue it after their departure. Alfred had been wishing in vain that an earthquake, thunder-storm, or some impossible catastrophe, would take place, to prevent their leaving them. The following evening the rest of the party, although more reasonable in their desires, sincerely wished they might be detained; and they seated themselves round their mothers with long and dismal faces. Alfred was of opinion that the game had better not be attempted, and then the last time would have been over the preceding evening without their knowing it; but this did not suit some of the others, who thought it was the only amusement that could make the time pass pleasantly. Mrs. Macdonald promised to do her best to enliven them, reminding them how useless, and ungrateful for past enjoyment in each other's society it would be to repine, now it was over; had they known their mother's private feelings, they would have found that she also suffered from the idea of losing her sister, even for a short time. The children promised to be as cheerful as the circumstances would allow, and their kind mother consented to tell the first story:—

"You have all heard of the House of Peers; and I shall now describe this important body collected on an interesting occasion. A speaker has been supported into the house, who appears to have risen from a bed of sickness; for the time he has regained strength, and is giving utterance to a powerful speech with the greatest animation."

"You have not," said the children, "given us much detail, mama."

"I will add, then, that this eloquent orator spoke of America and her affairs."

"And I think," said Mrs. Arabin, "that before he left the meeting, he was seized with a fit, and carried out lifeless."

"Then, aunt," replied Willie, "you have mentioned a public character to whom Pitt was related, and to whom he succeeded, as one of the king's chief ministers."

"I am glad you are not too unhappy to guess so well; perhaps you can now describe a picture."

"That I will, dear aunt; and it shall shew you the death of a brave man. He is commanding a large fleet, and fights against an enemy with the most determined courage. At the moment I have selected, he has received his death-blow, and has hastily covered the stars and different orders on his breast with his handkerchief; fearing the sailors might be appalled if they knew their commander had fallen. A friend stands by, and holds out his arm to support him."

"You so often give us battles," said Alfred; "and they all seem so much alike."

"What was this gallant seaman in appearance?" asked Mary.

"He was a pale, emaciated looking man, and had lost an arm."

"You have told us now, Willie; and I think mama is ready to speak next."

"If you like, my dears, I will do so; and shall give you an account of a royal levee. It did not take place in London, although it was held by an English king, and he was surrounded by his own people. The place in which the scene is laid is an old palace, and is a most interesting building, although there is nothing grand in its appearance. The old walls in every part of the edifice seem to have been beautified for the reception of the present tenant. The hardy forms and strongly marked features of the assembled crowd, soften into an expression of the deepest satisfaction as they welcome their sovereign; and his gracious manner and friendly attentions, shew that he is much gratified by his greeting."

It was a long time before the children could give a satisfactory answer, and they begged their mother to describe the person of her hero.

"He was remarkably handsome; and I remember my mother describing him the first time she ever saw him, when he was quite a young man."

"Stop, mama; if grandmama saw him, we know who it must be."

Mary next asked leave to speak; and, after a few whispers to her mama, she related the particulars of a dreadful fire. "The buildings destroyed were some of the oldest senate-houses in the world; they stood on the banks of a wide river, and the glare in the water was terrific. Crowds collected, and great anxiety was shewn to prevent the flames from spreading. A beautiful, sacred pile was so close, that for some time it was feared this would share the same fate; but happily, the prompt means to conquer the furious element saved this, and even houses still nearer. The accident took place at night."

"You have described it with as much animation, Mary, as if you had been present."

Their sister laughed, and seemed much entertained with all their mistakes. Mrs. Arabin told them that she had had the whole explained to her by their father, who had been an eye-witness.

"Oh, aunt, we can now guess," cried the elders of the party. "How clever of Mary to tell us of what took place during our own lives, and yet contrive that we should not know what she meant."

"You were all so young," said Mrs. Macdonald, "that you could not very well understand what passed, or what was talked about. We have only time for one more anecdote, and I shall relate it. I have described the coronation of a king for you before; I now wish to represent that of a young and graceful queen. She has just been crowned, and sits with royal dignity on the throne to receive the homage of the peers. They approach one by one to claim her gracious reception. An aged lord is of the number; and as he totters forward, he stumbles on the steps of her seat. The royal lady instantly lays aside the formality of a queen, and with the natural kindness of her disposition, rises and holds out her hand to assist him."

"How pleased all the people must have been, mama," said Alfred.

"Yes; they felt that they had one to rule them, who is well worthy the love that I hope we all bear her."

"Indeed, mama, we cannot think what you mean; we do not know who the queen was."

"You will, I trust, all, as you grow older, learn your duties to her better than you do now."

"Mama, you have cheated us again," interrupted the children.

Alfred thought this was very good fun, and promised to be a very loyal subject.

"I am sure he is on the twenty-fourth of May," said Willie, "and drinks Queen Victoria's health till we are nearly deaf."

"Although I am not sure that there is much loyalty in this act, he shall have an opportunity to do so to-night. You know your aunt has begged that you may all dine with us to-day, and you shall have some wine at dessert."

The children were now so much elated at the idea of remaining with their parents, that all gloom vanished. Mr. Macdonald entered in the midst of their noisy demonstrations of joy, and they directly informed him of the agreeable arrangement. Alfred rode to the cellar on papa's shoulder; and the evening passed so pleasantly that they all said "good night," more cheerfully than they had expected. Mrs. Arabin and her children left at so early an hour the following morning, that only Mr. and Mrs. Macdonald saw them go. Their cousins comforted themselves with the hope that they should before long meet again, and be able to resume their game. Their future historical anecdotes may another time be related to those who are interested, and to those little boys and girls who wish to follow their example, and pass their spare hours pleasantly and instructively.


1. Death of Lord Chatham. A.D. 1778.

2. Death of Lord Nelson. A.D. 1805.

3. George the Fourth's Visit to Scotland. A.D. 1822.

4. Destruction of the Houses of Parliament. A.D. 1834.

5. Queen Victoria raising Lord Rolle at her Coronation. A.D. 1830.



The End.










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