a? 5" !li M J > imm\ niim li i IIP i!};[) If''': jjliliiif 11 V ...J, lii' ■ I : . . L^LilllLll ■: illii 1' Li^lililiimLiii' ilililiLtiilj LrLJl'Ltl M <* ' CBWWiBi^Tl I ' -^ THE CHRDRE-N.OF westminStETTvbbey STUDIES IN ENGLISH HISTORY ROSE G. KINGSLEY r^' EDWARD THE SIXTH ILLUSTRA TIONS BOSTON D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS 0"^A THE LIBRARY or coNOftcts WAMIIiOTOW Copyright, iS86. by D. LoTHROP & Company. TO MY NEPHEWS RANULPH AND FRANCIS KINGSLEY TacJibrook Mallory Oct. t6, 1885 CONTENTS. I. The ]!iiil(li;ig of the Abbey — Princess Cath eiiiie and Prince Henry II. The Cont|uest of Wales — Prince Alfonso III. John of Eltham, the Young Knight IV. Edward the Fifth, and Richard, Duke of York V. King Edward the Sixth .... VI. Miss Elizabeth Russell, " the Child of West minster" VII. The Princesses Sophia and Mary . VIII. Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales IX. Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales (^continued] X. Lord Francis Villiers .... XI. Princess Anne, and Henry, Duke of Glou cester ...... XII. William Henry, Duke of Gloucester Page. 57 79 105 130 155 176 196 243 269 ILLUSTRATIONS. {from rare old Prints and Photographs.) Page. Westminster Abbey. — Front .... Frontis. Westminster Abbey. — North Entrance . . . 12 Shrine of Edward the Confessor. — At left, Tomb of Henry the Third 25 Dean Stanley 37 Chapel of Henry the Fifth 45 Effigy of John of Eltham 58 Tomb of John of Eltham, St. Edmund's Chapel . 61 Ancient Canopy of the Tomb of John of Eltham . 67 Tomb of William of Windsor and his Sister Blanche 74 Edward the Fifth 83 Memorial Urn in Henry the Seventh's Chapel . . loi Interior of the Chapel of Henry the Seventh . . 107 Exterior of the Chapel of Henry the Seventh . . 113 Edward the Si.xth. — Frotn a Painting by Holbein . 119 Queen Elizabeth. — F>-om Painting in the English Na- tional Portrait Gallery 137 Monument to Miss Elizabeth Russell . . . 147 The Monument to Queen Elizabeth in the North Aisle 157 The Cradle Tomb 165 The Monuments of Princess S()[)hia and Princess Mary 171 8 ILLUSTRATIONS. Entrance ro Bramshill House .... Bramshill House, from the North Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales Westminster Abbey, from the North Tomb of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham Lord Francis Villiers. — After Vandyck The Effigies of the Lady Anna .... Henry, Duke of Gloucester .... Princess Elizabeth in Prison .... Westminster Abbey, looking toward the Altar.- From Etching by H. Tons saint The Old Dormitory at W^estminster School Dining Hall, Westminster School A Westminster Boy Page. 179 189 203 227 245 253 261 273 279 285 THE CHILDREN OF WEST- MINSTER ABBEY. CHAPTER I. THE BUILDING OF THE ABBEY. TWELVE hundred years ago, in the reign of King Sebert the Saxon, a poor fisherman called Edric, was casting his nets one Sunday night into the Thames. He lived on the Isle of Thorns, a dry spot in the marshes, some three miles up the river from the Roman fortress of London. The silvery Thames washed against the island's gravelly shores. It was covered with tangled thickets of thorns. And not so long before, the red deer, and elk and fierce wild ox had strayed into its shades from the neighboring forests.* •Dean Stanley says in his " Memorials of Westmirster," "The bones of such an ox (Bos primicerius) were discovered under llie foundations of the Victoria Tower, and red deer, with very fine antlers, below the Rivef Terrace. I derive tliis from Professor Owen. Bones and antlers of the elk and red deer were also found in 1868 in Broad Sanctuary in making the MetropoHtan Railway. 8 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Upon the island a little church had just been built, which was to be consecrated on the morrow. Suddenly Edric was hailed from the further bank by a venerable man in strange attire. He ferried the stranger across the river, who entered the church and consecrated it with all the usual rites — the dark night being bright with celestial splendor. When the ceremony was over, the stranger revealed to the awestruck fisherman that he was St. Peter, who had come to consecrate his own Church of Westmin- ster. " For yourself," he said, " go out into the river ; you will catch a plentiful supply of fish, whereof the larger part shall be salmon. This I have granted on two conditions — first, that you never again fish on Sundays ; and secondly, that you pay a tithe of them to the Abbey of Westmin- ster."* The next day when bishop and king came with a great train to consecrate the church, Edric told them his story, presented a salmon "from St. Peter in a gentle manner to the bishop," and showed them that their pious work was already done. * " Memorials of Westminster." Dean Stanley, p. 21. THE BUILDING OF THE ABBEY, 9 So runs the legend. And on the site of that lit- tle church dedicated to St. Peter upon the thorn- grown island in the marshes, grew up centuries later the glorious Abbey that all English and American boys and girls should love. For that Abbey is the record of the growth of our two great nations. Within its walls we are on common ground. We are " in goodly company ; " among those who by their words and deeds and examples have made England and America what they are. America is represented just as much as England "by every monument in the Abbey earlier than the Civil Wars."* And within the last few years England has been proud to enshrine in her Pantheon the memories of two great and good Americans — George Peabody, the philanthropist, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the poet. Come with me, in spirit, my American friends, and let us wander down to Westminster on some warm June morning. We will go down Parliament street from Trafal- gar Square, along the road that English kings took * Lectures delivered in America. Charles Kingsley. lO THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. in old days from the Tower of London to their coronations at the Abbey. Whitehall is on our left ; and we remember with a shudder that King Charles stepped out of that great middle window and laid his unhappy head on the block prepared outside upon the scaffold. On our right " The Horse Guards " — the headquarters of the English army, with a couple of gorgeous lifeguardsmen in scarlet and white, and shining cuirasses, sitting like statues on their great black horses. Through the archway we catch a glimpse of the thorns in St. James' Park, all white with blossom; and we won- der whether their remote ancestors were the thorns of Edric's time. Next comes the mass of the For- eign Office and all the government buildings, with footguards in scarlet tunics and huge bearskin caps standing sentry at each door. Parliament street narrows ; and at the end of it we see the Clock Tower of the Houses of Parliament high up in the air, and the still larger square Victoria Tower. Then it opens out into a wide space of gardens and road- ways ; and, across the bright flower beds, there stands Westminster Abbey. THE BUILDING OF THE ABBEY. II What would Edric, the poor fisherman, think if he could see the Thames — silvery no longer — hur- rying by the wide granite embankments — past Doulton's gigantic Lambeth potteries and Lambeth Palace and the River Terrace of the Houses of Par- liament — covered with panting steamboats and heavy barges — swirling brown and turbid under the splendid bridges that span it, down to the Tower of London, and the Pool, and the Docks, where the crossing lines of thousands of masts and spars make a brown mist above the shipping from every quarter of the globe ? Poor Edric would look in vain for fish in that dirty river ; and full four hundred years have passed since "the Reverend Brother John Wratting, Prior of Westminster," saw twenty-four salmon offered as tithe at the High Altar of the Abbey. What would King Sebert the Saxon think if we took him into the glorious building that has risen upon the foundations of his little church in the marshes ? At first sight Westminster Abbey is a little dwarfed by the enormous pile of the Houses of 12 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Parliament and their great towers. And St. Mar- garet's Church, nestling close to it on the north, mars the full view of its lensith. But when we draw liJWjf jiri! ! l 1! i|ti!i|!! ir''i| ! lii iil||| i n H i mm THE MONUMENT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH IN THE NORTH AISLE, THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. 159 clusters of pillars spreading out into fan traceries ; and deep, emba3'ed windows full of hundreds of dia- mond panes toned down by the grimy London air into a mellow amber color. As we enter the north aisle we tread on a stone that bears the name of Addison. Famous men, poets, generals, statesmen, are all about us. But the great monument that stands in the centre of the chapel claims all our attention. Under a magnificent marble canopy, still and stern in death, lies the last of the Tudors — that splendid personage who, for more than fifty years, ruled over England and kept all Europe at bay ; and who byword and deed encour- aged those who laid the foundation of the great trans- atlantic England. Yes ! there sleeps Queen Eliza- beth — the old lioness. And in spite of vanities and weaknesses that we are apt nowadays to dwell on all too hardly, she was perhaps the greatest w^oman that England has ever seen. Her tomb, built by James the First, "of white marble and touch- stone from the royal store at Whitehall," is not only a worthy memorial of her, but a token of the peace and goodwill that the great Abbey speaks of to all l6o THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. who will hear. For by her own desire, Elizabeth was buried in the same grave with her sister Mary, that sister whose very name seems only to bring to mind hatred and persecution, the stake and the fagot. Now she and Elizabeth are at peace. And on their monument James the First inscribed " two lines full of a far deeper feeling than we should nat- urally have ascribed to him " : * Fellows in the kingdom, and in the tomb. Here we sleep ; Mary and Elizabeth^ t!u Sisters ; in hope of the resurrection. There is another effigy of Queen Elizabeth in the Abbey ; and a very curious one it is. From the thirteenth century until the beginning of the eight- eenth, it was the custom at royal funerals to carry a life-size, waxen image before the coffin, represent- ing the dead in the clothes they wore. These effigies were left on the grave for about a month, and some of the Abbey officials gained their living by showing them to visitors. Most of the waxen figures have crumbled to dust. The writer believes that she was the last person to look at that of hap- * Memorials of Westminster Abbey, p. i8i. THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. l6l less Anne Boleyn. It had so fallen to pieces as to be a very hideous object, and it has since been locked up and shown to no one. But in an upper chamber over the Islip chapel, reached by a little dark stairway, eleven of these strange figures are still to be seen in wainscot cupboards with glass doors. Among them is Queen Elizabeth ; not the original effigy — that was worn out in 1708, when a certain Tom Brown who wrote A JValk through London atid Westminster^ says that he saw the re- mains of it. This is a copy made in 1760 ; and we see the poor old queen, dressed in the long-waisted bodice and hooped skirt we know so well in pic- tures. It is a piteous sight, however; for the effigy, battered and sorely the worse for wear, is leaning up against the side of the glass cupboard in a most undignified attitude. One would rather think of her as she lies still and stately in the beautiful north aisle. But we must linger no longer about Elizabeth's effigy or her tomb. We must pass on to the east end of the chapel, and there we shall find the monu- ments of her two little cousins. l62 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. On what used to be the aUar step of the north aisle stands a baby's cradle — a cradle on real rockers. A gorgeous coverlet, all trimmed with rich guipure lace, falls from the corners of the cradle in splendid, rich folds. The arms of England, Scotland, and Ireland are carved on the back. And when you look under the head of the cradle you see that a baby lies sleeping in it. A darling tiny baby it is — its little wee face set in a close lace cap and lace ruff, under a kind of lace-trimmed hood that forms part of the pillow. You can almost fancy that if the cradle were set rocking the babe might open her eyes. But " baby and cradle, and all," are mar- ble — marble, yellow with the dust and wear of nearly three hundred years. "The Cradle Tomb" of Westminster, as it is called, has been far better described than by any words of mine. A card hangs close beside it, placed there by desire of Lady Augusta Stanley, on which is a poem " by an American lady." That lady is a well-known favorite of American read- ers ; for she is none other than " Susan Cool- idge." And the lovely verses — some of which THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. 1 63 I venture to transcribe — appeared in Scrihier's Monthly for 1875 : A little rudely sculptured bed, With shadowing folds of marble lace, And quilt of marble, primly spread, And folded round a baby face. Smoothly the mimic coverlet, With royal blazonries bedight, Hangs, as by tender fingers set, And straightened for the last good-night. And traced upon the pillowing stone A dent is seen, as if, to bless That quiet sleep, some grieving one Had leaned, and left a soft impress. • ■. . . . . • • But dust upon the cradle lies. And those who prized the baby so, And decked her couch with heavy sighs, Were turned to dust long years ago. The inscription on her cradle tells us that this dear baby, Sophia, a royal rosebud, plucked by premature fate, and snatched away from her parents — James, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, and Queen Anne — that she 164 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. might flourish again in the rosary of Christ, was placed here on the twenty-third of June, in the fourth year of the reign of King James, 1606. The little creature was born on the twenty-first of June at Greenwich — a favorite palace of the English sovereigns. Great preparations had been made for her christening, and for the tourneys which were to be held at the same time in honor of her grandfather the King of Denmark's visit. But the baby only lived two days, and was hastily baptized " Sophia," after the Queen of Denmark, James the First gave orders that she should be buried "as cheaply as possible, without any solem- nity or funeral." * Nevertheless he made a contract with Nicholas Poutrain, the royal sculptor, for her monument, the cost of which was not to exceed one hundred and forty pounds. And we find that her cofBn was very solemnly conveyed up the river by barge, covered with black velvet, accompanied by three other barges covered with black cloth and bearing many nobles, lords, ladies, and the offi- cers-of-arms, to the Parliament stairs at Westmin- * Fuller's Worthies. THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. i6s ster. Thence the procession went to the south- east door of the Abbey, where it was met by the THE CRADLE TOMB. great lords of the Council, the Heralds, and chief officers of the court, the Dean and Prebends with the choir ; and so they passed to King Henry the Seventh's chapel where there was an Antiphon sung with the organ ; in the meantime the Body was interred in a Vault at the end of the Tomb then erecting for Queen Elizabeth.* The chief mourner was that unhappy Lady Ara- bella Stuart, king James' cousin, who, years after, • Sandford. Kings and Queens of England. Book VII. p. 577. l66 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABREY. ended her troubled life in the Tower, and was brought like little baby Sophia " by the dark river," and laid in the same grave as Mary, Queen of Scots, her kinswoman. Upon the same altar step there is another mon- ument to a little princess — Sophia's sister Mary. She was the third daughter of James the First : but the first princess of the new dynasty who was born in England, and the first royal child baptized in the Reformed Church. As " three quarters of a century had elapsed since a child was born to the Sovereign of England," great were the rejoicings on little Mary's birth upon the eighth of April, 1605. Bonfires were lighted, church bells were rung all day long, and there were scrambles for money in the streets. There is a curious account of the clothes provided for this first princess of Great Britain, which shows us how royal babies were dressed then. She had a carnation velvet cradle, fringed with silver fringe, and lined with carnation satin ; a double scarlet cloth to lay upon the cradle in the night; a cradle cloth of carnation velvet with THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY, 167 a train, laid with silver, and lined with taffety to lay upon the cradle ; two small mantles of unshorn velvet, lined with the same velvet ; one large bearing cloth of carnation velvet, to be used when the child is brought forth of the chamber, lined with taffety ; one great head sheet of cambric for the cradle, containing two breadths, and three yards long,wrought all over with gold and colored silks, and fringed with gold; six large handkerchiefs of fine cambric, whereof one to be edged with fair cut work, to lay over the child's face; six veils of lawn, edged with fair bone lace, to pin with the mantles; six gathered bibs of fine lawn with rufiles edged with bone lace ; two bibs to wear under them, wrought with gold and colored silks, etc.* The total value of these fineries and of all the lace and cambric required for the baby's trousseau was estimated at three hundred pounds. Her christening upon the fifth of May, was con- ducted on the most gorgeous scale that had ever been seen in England. Many peers were raised to higher rank, and numbers of knights were crea- ted barons in honor of the occasion. The chapel at Greenwich palace was hung with green velvet and cloth of gold. " A very rich and stately font ♦" Princesses of England." M. A. E. Green. Vol. VI. p. 91. 1 68 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. of silver and gilt, most curiously wrought with fig- ures of beasts, serpents, and other antique works,"* stood under a canopy of cloth of gold twelve feet square. The child was carried from the queen's lodgings by the countess of Derby, under a canopy borne by eight barons. Dukes and bishops, earls and barons went before the Earl of Northumber- land, who bore a gilt basin ; and the Countess of Worcester came after him, " bearing a cushen cov- ered with Lawne, which had thereon many jewels of inestimable price."t The Lady Derby's train was borne by the greatest countesses in the land ; and the baby's " train of the mantle of purple vel- vet, embroidered round about with gold, and furred with ermines," t was borne by noblemen. The Archbishop of Canterbury christened the little princess. Her godparents were the Duke of Hol- stein, brother to the queen, the Lady Arabella Stuart, and the Countess of Northumberland. And when the christening was over, " the heralds put on their coats, the trumpets sounded. * Nichols. Vol. I. p. 572. t Stow's Chronicle, p. 862. + Green's Princesses, p. 92. THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. 169 King at arms, "making low reverence unto the King's Majesty,"* proclaimed the little girl's name aloud in the chapel. Times have happily changed since those days. Contrast all this fuss and cold formality with a simple christening that took place only a week ago in England. A little royal duke, in whose veins the blood of the Stuarts still flows, was brought to the font of the quiet village church of Esher in Surrey. Very peaceful and unpretentious was the baby Duke of Albany's christening — poor little fatherless boy. But there were none present who did not truly love and honor the widowed grand- mother who held him in her arms and the young widowed mother who stood by, or mourn for the accomplished, studious father, who died but a few months ago. Which is likely to have the happiest childhood — the little Guelph wrapped in the pure white Honiton-Iace robe in which all the children and grandchildren of Queen Victoria have been christened ; or the little Stuart in her purple velvet train, among the cloth-of-gold, and heralds, and • Nichols. Vol. I. p. 573. 170 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. grandees of James the First's heartless, luxurious, extravagant court ? Babies were differently treated in those days. Now, be they children of a queen, or of the hum- blest commoner, they stay safe at home in their nice, warm nurseries, under their mother's eye. But the royal children of that date were sent off to be cared for " by trusty persons of quality." Little Princess Mary was given into the charge of Lady Knyvett. And on the first of June, when she was not two months old, she was taken down to Stanwell where Sir Thomas Knyvett lived. He was allowed twenty pounds per week for the diet of the princess and of her suite, consisting of six rockers, and sev- eral inferior attendants ; but the king took upon himself the payment of their wages, the expenses of her removals from house to house, of her apparel, coach and horses, etc.* Lady Knyvett took the greatest care of her little charge. But children were badly understood in those times. Badly nursed, and fed, and clothed, two thirds of the babies that were born in England died. It was only the very strong ones who could * Green's Princesses, p. 94. W) THE MONUMENTS OF PRINCESS SOPHIA AND PRINCESS MARY. THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. 173 survive their bringing-up. Think only of that stuffy cradle of " carnation velvet," and the " mantles of unshorn velvet," and the bibs " wrought with gold and colored silks." Hot, uncomfortable, unhealthy things — one shudders to think of a little tender baby in such garments. Then think of the utter ignorance of most of the physicians of those days ; and of the appalling disregard of ventilation, baths, and proper food. What wonder, then, that little Princess Mary did not live long. When she was scarcely more than two years old she caught a vio- lent cold, which settled on her lungs with burning fever. The queen came constantly to see her little girl. But no tenderness or skill availed; and af- ter a month's illness the little creature sank on the sixth of September, 1607. For fourteen hours there was no sound of any word heard breaking from her lips; yet when it sensibly appeared that she would soon make a peaceable end of a troublesome life, she sighed out these words, " I go, I go ! " * And again when some stimulant was given her •Funeral Sermon for Prs. Mary, by G. Leech, preached in Henry the Seventh's Chapel, Sept. 23, 1607. 174 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. she looked up and said, " Away, I go." And yet once more she repeated faintly "I go ; " and so went home. Thus another " royal rosebud " was laid beside the baby Sophia at Queen Elizabeth's feet. On her monument Princess Mary is represented lying on her side, half-raised on one elbow which rests upon an embroidered pillow, with one chubby little hand uplifted and clenched. She wears a straight-waisted bodice which looks as stifif as armor ; an immensely full skirt that stands out all round her waist ; a close lace cap ; and a great square collar — the first representation in the Ab- bey, as far as I recollect, of those square collars that were soon to take the place of the beautiful Elizabethan ruff. At the corners of her tomb sit four fat weeping cherubs, one of whom has his hands raised in a perfect agony of grief. And a nice- fierce little lion lies at the child's feet, looking very alert, and on the watch to g'-'-d his young mis- tress from harm. It is a beautiful place to rest in — this quiet chapel, with its walls all covered with traceries, and THE PRINCESSES SOPHIA AND MARY. 1 75 great stone bosses suspended aloft in the blue mist of the roof. Over the stalls in the central chapel hang the old banners of the Knights of the Bath with famous names written upon them in letters of gold — names of warriors, explorers, statesmen, lawyers, men of science. Glints of deep red, blue and amber from Storied windows richly diglit, flash through the dusky air. And above the tombs of the two young princesses is the urn containing the bones of Edward the Fifth and Richard Duke of York ; making this chapel, as Dean Stanley aptly says, "The Innocents' Corner." CHAPTER VIII. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. AMONG the Hampshire moors, covered with sheets of purple heather and dark forests of Scotch firs, stands a grand old house built of red brick with stone facings. It is a noble man- sion, with its saloons and libraries ; its great hall where the Yule log burns at Christmas on the hearth of a vast fireplace ; its wide oaken staircases, secret doors and passages ; its " Long Gallery " run- ning the whole width of the building ; its wonderful ceilings fretted with patterns and pendants of plas- ter-work ; its oak-panelled bedrooms ; its attics big enough to house a whole regiment. Outside there are terraces and lawns of finest turf, where Troco and bowls used to be played nearly three hundred years ago ; and walled gardens opening one into the other with beautiful wrought-iron gates of in- 176 HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 177 tricate pattern. The Virginian creeper climbs over the house, and veils the stone muUions of the deep embayed windows in a delicate tangled tracery of stems and leaves. Groups of tall red brick chimneys rise above the gables of the roof. And crowning the splendid western front — above the great entrance through a triple arched porch, above the exquisite oriel window that hangs out from the walls of the chapel-room — the Prince of Wales's three feathers, the badge that Edward the Black Prince won at Cressy, are carved in stone. It seems a long way from Westminster Abbey to Bramshill House. But the two are connected in more ways than one with the young hero of our story. For King James the First began to build that fine old house as a hunting box for his son Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales. He brought those giant fir-trees from Scotland, that stand like sentinels on Hartford Bridge Flats and in Bramshill Park ; and he planted them in groups here and there as a memento of his northern home, little dreaming that they would take so kindly to the soil, and that millions upon millions lyS THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. of their self-sown children would turn the bleak moorland into thick deep forest. Lastly it was in Bramshill Park that the writer's worthy ancestor, George Abbott, Archbishop of Canterbury, the dear friend and adviser of Henry, Prince of Wales, met with the misfortune that blighted his life. King James who was staying either at Bramshill, which had been bought by Lord Zouch, or at Elvetham close by, insisted on the archbishop going out shooting with him. And when, much against his will, the prelate consented, his shot aimed at a deer, glanced off a tree and killed one of the keepers instead. The archbishop was sus- pended from his office for a year, and it is said he never smiled again, a tradition that is borne out by his beautiful, sad portrait painted by Van Dyck.* It is not, however, with George Abbott, but with the young prince he loved so devotedly, that we have to do. The boy on whom the hopes of England were to be centered, was born at Stirling Castle in 1594. He was christened six months later at Edinburgh — *Now in the possession of Nfaurice Kinssley, Esq. liNTRANCl'. TO HRAMSHILL HOUSE. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 16 X a guard of the youths of the city, well dressed, standing on either side, as Lord Sussex, who had been sent by Queen Elizabeth to the ceremony with a present of plate, valued at three thousand pounds, carried the baby to the chapel. The child was named by his father, " Frederick Henry and Henry Frederick ; " and the Bishop repeating these names over three times, they were proclaimed by heralds to the sound of trumpets. The little fellow was confided to the care of Lady Mar until he was five years old, and a very hard time he must have had. For " the severity of her temper, as well as the duty of her office, would not permit her to use any indulgence towards the prince." * But already, baby as he was, he gave signs of the sweetness of his disposition ; for he showed not only reverence, but affection for the fierce old dame, and for Lord Mar, her son, who was his gov- ernor. When the Prince was taken from Lady Mar's severe care, he was given over to a tutor, Mr. Adam Newton, to whom he became greatly attached; and Lord Mar, Sir David, Murray, and •Life of Henry, Prince of Wales. P.y Dr. Thomas Birch, p. ii. l82 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. several lords, knights, and gentlemen made up his body of attendants. King James lost no time in teaching this little prince the duties and responsi- bilities of his station. The boy was scarcely six years old before his father wrote his book of " in- st nut ions to his dearest son, Henry the Prince,''' the best of all his works according to Bacon, who pro- nounced it " excellently written^ These insti actions are divided into three books ; the first instructing the prince in his duty toward God ; the second in his duty when he should be King; and the third informing him how to behave himself in indifferent things, which were neither right nor wrong, but according as they were rightly or wrongly used.* Before he is seven years old we find the child writing a letter in French to the States General of Holland, in which " he expresses his great regard for the States, and gratitude for the good opinion, which they had so early conceived of him, and of which he had received an account from several persons."! And on his ninth birthday he writes * Birch, p. i6. t Birch, p. 20. The letter is in the Harleian MSS. in the British Museum. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 183 a letter to his father in Latin, beginning " Rex seren- nissime et amantissime pater,''^ in which he tells the king what progress he has made, and how that "since the king's departure he had read over Ter- ence's Hccyra, the third book of Phaedrus's Fables, and two books of Cicero's Select Epistles ; and he now thought himself capable of performing some- thing in the commendatory kind of Epistles."* This is a good deal for a little boy of eight years old to accomplish. How would boys of our day like to do as much ? They would probably prefer the other part of young Prince Henry's education. In 1601, when he was seven years old, he began to apply himself to, and take pleasure in, active and manly exercises, learning to ride, sing, dance, leap, shoot with the bow and gun, toss the pike, etc., being instructed i.i the use of arms by Richard Preston, a gentleman of great accomplishments both of mind and body, who was afterwards made Earl of Desmond in Ireland. Prince Henry was devoted to these manly pursuits as we shall see further on ; and his * Birch, p. 22. 184 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. fondness for them and his disregard of fatigue or exposure, helped, some thought, to bring about his untimely death. In 1603, at Queen Elizabeth's death, the prince was nine years old. Before King James left Scot- land, which he did immediately upon receiving the proclamation that raised him to the throne of Great Britain, he wrote a sensible letter to his son, telling him of the immense change in their fortunes, but warning him not to let this news make him " proud or insolent ; for a king's son and heir was ye be- fore, and no more are ye now. The augmentation that is hereby like to fall unto you, is but in cares and heavy burthens. Be therefore merry, but not insolent : keep a greatness, but sine fastu : Be reso- lute, but not wilfull : keep your kindness, but in honorable sort."* Excellent maxims; and it would have been well for the writer of them to lay them to heart as earnestly as his little son did. The Prince and his mother, Anne of Denmark, followed the king to Windsor later in the year, spending a whole month on the journey from • Harleian MSS. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 185 Edinburgh. This seems an absurd waste of time to us, who rush through in ten hours and a half by the Limited Mail, breakfasting at Edinburgh, and dining comfortably in London. However these Royal progresses were very slow and stately affairs. All the great lords and gentlemen whose places lay on the route, were honoured by visits. Their grand old castles, their beautiful new Elizabethan houses, such as Bramshill which I have described, or Hatfield, or Hardwicke Hall, were thronged with guests. There were hawking and hunting parties, masques and tourneys, and every sort and kind of amusement for the Royal visitors. And we can well imagine how interested the precocious young prince must have been in the novelty of this jour- ney through the rich kingdom which he hoped to rule over one day. The queen and prince arrived at Windsor dur- ing the feast of St. George, the patron saint of the famous order of the Garter. The little boy was made a knight of this most illustrious order ; and astonished those present by his "•quick tuitty an- swers, princely carriage and reverent obeisance at the l86 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. altar,^' * which seemed extraordinary in one so young and so ignorant of such ceremonies. As the plague was increasing about Windsor, Prince Henry removed to the royal palace of Oat- lands on the Thames near Weybridge. Here for a time his sister, Princess Elizabeth, lived with him. Few pages of history are prettier or more interest- ing than the story of Henry and Elizabeth's affec- tion for each other. She was two years younger than her brother, a gay, sprightly girl, destined to a most troubled after-life, for she is best known to the world as " the unfortunate Queen of Bohe- mia," grandmother of our English King, George the First. At sixteen she married the Elector Palatine, who was made king of Bohemia by the Protestant party in Germany, and thereby found herself in direct opposition to the Roman Catholic party, who, backed by Spain, supported the claim of Austria to the Bohemian throne. Poor Elizabeth, in spite of trouble and sorrow, poverty and the horrors of war, retained, though a fugitive and an exile, much of her gayety to the very end of her life ; and some of her let- * Edward Howe's Chronicle, p. 826. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 187 ters, even in her clays of sorest need, are most amus- ing reading. But the letters that are chiefly inter- esting to us are those which passed between the young brother and sister in their happy youth, while Elizabeth was still a merry, light-hearted girl. The wretched system of which we have already spoken, that of sending royal children away from home to be " boarded out " in the house of some great noble or gentleman, caused no little sorrow to this brother and sister. Prince Henry, as heir to the crown, was given a separate establishment in 1603, and for a time Princess Elizabeth was per- mitted to share it. When they went to Oatlands the king allowed them seventy servants ; twenty- two above stairs and forty-eight below. This num- ber was soon increased to one hundred and four, and later in the year to one hundred and forty-one — fifty-six above and eighty-five below. But this happy arrangement did not last long. The princess was sent to Coombe Abbey in Warwickshire, under the care of good Lord Harrington, her governor. And the prince went to Wolsey's famous palace of Hampton Court, 155 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY, where he resided chiefly till about Michaelmas of the year following, when he returned to housekeeping, his ser- vants having in the interval been put to board-wages. Now began a constant interchange of letters be- tween the children. The meetings were rare. So they consoled themselves by writing, telling each other of their amusements, their occupations, their journeys, their lessons and readings. Here is a pretty one from Prince Henry, written a few years later : That you are displeased to be left in solitude I can well believe, for you damsels and women are sociable creatures ; but you know that those who love each other best cannot always be glued together ; and if I have gone from you to make war on hares, as you suppose, I would you should know that it is not less honorable to combat against hares than conies, and yet it is well authenticated by the experience of our age, that this latter is a royal game. But this north wind, preventing us from our ordinary exercises, will blow us straight to London, so in a short time it is probable we may celebrate together, the feast of St.Mangiart and St. Pensard ; * to whom recommending you this next Shrove Tuesday, I am etc. etct * A pun on manger znApertser, to eat and to think, t Green's Princesses. Vol. 5. p. 172. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 191 We now begin to learn something of the boy's tastes. So early as 1604 when he is but ten years old, he is looked upon as a patron of letters. Lord Spencer sends him a present of Philippe de Conii- nes' Memoirs from Althorpe, knowing his liking for solid reading. And he is given Pibrac's Quatrains n French to learn by heart. He is already cor- responding in Latin with the Doge of Venice, the Landgrave of Hesse, the Duke of Brunswick, the Prince of Poland, and his grandfather, the King of Denmark. Then a year or so later we come upon a charming series of French letters between '.he prince and Henri Quatre, the famous King of France, who had a strong affection for the clever, high-minded boy, and foresaw how important his in- fluence would be in Europe should he live. Prince Henry and the little Dauphin of France, afterward Louis the Thirteenth, were also warm friends, although they never met. When Monsieur de la Boderie came over to England as ambassador from France, he was charged with special messages to Prince Henry from Henri Quatre and the Dauphin. The latter begged the ambassador to tell the prince 192 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. that he cherished his friendship and often spoke of him and of the pack of littledogs which his Highness had sent him, and which he was very sorry that his Governess and Phy- sician would not permit him to make use of.* Poor little Dauphin ! To hav^e a pack of little dogs, and not be allowed to use them, must indeed have been hard. But he was not quite six years old then, so that perhaps he was a little young for field sports. Prince Henry and his sister were both devoted to horses, and were bold and accomplished riders. When the Prince was hardly ten years old he wished "to mount a horse of prodigious mettle," and re- fusing the help of his attendants, who were greatly alarmed and tried to dissuade him from the atie::ipt, he got up himself from the side of a bank, and spurred the animal to a full gallop, in spite of the remonstrance of those who stood by ; and at last having thoroughly exercised the horse, brought him in a gentle pace back, and dis mounting, said to them, " How long shall I continue to be a child in your opinion .■* " t * Birch, p. 68. t Birch, p. 385. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. I93 King Henri Quatre sent over a French riding- master to the boy, a Monsieur St. Anthoine, for in those clays France excelled in the '■' majiege'" — the elaborate art of horsemanship — which was a part of every fine gentleman's education. When the French ambassador came over to England he went to the Riding School to see how Prince Henr)- was profited by his French teaching, and wrote to the French Secretary of State : The Dauphin may make a return for the dogs lately sent him by the Prince; for St. Anthoine tells me, that he cannot gratify the Prince more, than by sending him a suit of armour well gilt and enamelled, together with pistols and a sword of the same kind ; and if he will add to these a couple of horses, one of which goes well, and the other a barb, it will be a singular favor done to the Prince.* The Spanish ambassador, hearing of this present, instantly tried to curry favor with the boy by telling him that a number of horses were coming to him from the court of Spain — for young as he was, this wily statesman saw the important part the Prince might play in the fortunes of Europe. • Ambassades de la Coderie. liirch. p. 70. 194 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. But Henry was loyal in his friendship to France , and waited with great eagerness for the Dauphin's horses and armour, which speedily arrived. Mon- sieur de la Boderie writing again to France about the Prince, says : None of his pleasures savour the least of a child. He is a particular lover of horses and what belongs to them ; but is not fond of hunting ; and when he goes to it, it is rather for the pleasure of galloping, than that which the dogs give him. He plays willingly enough at Tennis but this always with persons elder than himself, as if he de- spised those of his own age. He studies two hours a day, and employs the rest of his time in tossing the pike, or leaping, or shooting with the bow, or throwing the bar, or vaulting, or some other exercise of that kind ; and he is never idle. He shows himself likewise very good natured to his dependants, and supports their interests against any persons whatever ; and he pushes what he undertakes for them or others with such zeal as gives success to it. For beside his exerting his whole strength to compass what he desires, he is alread) feared by those who have the management of affairs, and especially the Earl of Salisbury, who appears to be greatly i apprehensive of the Prince's ascendant; as the Prince, on the other hand, shows little esteem for his Lordship.* * Birch, p. 75. Ambassades de la Boderie. Vol. I, p. 400. HENKY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 195 Here we have a fair picture of this twelve-year- old boy who had already seen how to choose the good, and reject the evil. And everything we learn of him as he grew older only serves to confirm the French ambassador's estimate of his character. He was a fine, brave child, regardless of pain and danger; liking an old suit of Welsh freize, better than velvet and satin ; obedient and dutiful to his parents, although he often disagreed with their opinions. And this was all the more creditable to him; for his mother openly showed her prefer- ence for his younger brother Charles ; while his father was jealous and afraid of the noble-minded, truthful boy who would not countenance the scan- dals and evils of James's corrupt court. CHAPTER IX. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES {fO/ltimied). ALL English and American children have heard of the Fifth of November. It was a day of mingled terror and delight in our childhood. Just at dusk a band of men and boys used to tramp down the road, and gather close under the win- dows. They were armed with guns, and bore on poles a chair upon which was seated a hideous life- size effigy of a man, dressed in an old tattered coat and battered tall hat. Then they began in sepulchral voices to repeat the following words, very fast, with no stops, and in broad Hampshire dialect : Remember, remember the fifth of November Gunpowder trayson and plot. I know no rayson why gunpowder trayson Ever should be forgot. 196 HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 197 Old Guy Fox and his companions, With fifty-two barrels of gunpowder To blow old England up. Look into your pocket, there's a little chink, Pray pull it up and give us some drink ; All we wants is a little more money To kindle up our old Bonfire. If you won't give us one bavven* we'll take two. The better for we and the wuss for you. Holler, boys, holler, boys, God save the King I Holler, boys, holler, boys, make the house ring. Hip ! Hip ! hip ! Hoorah ! t And " holler " they did. While the children, know- ing what was coming, cowered shuddering inside the window curtains, frightened to death, and yet so fascinated with horror they were obliged to look, " Bang, bang, bang," went all the guns, fired up into the air round old Guy, with tremendous shouts. But that was not all. In the evening the huge bon- fire twenty feet high down on the Common, for which all the men and boys had been begging •"Bavin." Hampshire for faggot. t There are many different versions of this old rhyme in the different counties of England. I give the Hampshire one exactly as it is used. 198 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. "bavins" or cutting furze for days, was lighted. And round it every one in the parish assembled. Ah ! the delights of Bonfire Night ! the thrill of excitement as the match was applied to a heap of well-dried sticks and straw in a sheltered hole on the leeward side. The yells of joy as the furze caught and crackled as only furze can crackle, and the flames ran up the sides of the stack and lit up Guy Fawkes, whose effigy, after going the rounds of the parish, was at length deposited on the top of the bonfire ; the cloud of sparks that streamed out from the cracking, snapping pile ; the squibs and crack- ers that every body threw at every body else ; and then the climax, when the fire reached old Guy himself, and with a mighty heave the old fellow sank into his fiery grave in the centre of the bon- fire, the squibs in his hat exploding like a round of musketry, and a roar rose from the good Hampshire throats as the whole burning mass collapsed while the flames rushed up fiercely with one last effort high into the foggy air. Then the good-nights, and the walk home, our hair and clothes smelling of smoke, and our eyes so dazzled that we stumbled HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 1 99 and staggered along across the Common, while the shouts of the boys, dancing about the embers of the great fire, gradually died away in the dis- tance. What can all this have to do with Prince Henry you may ask ? A great deal, we answer. For these bonfires all over England on the Fifth of November, com- memorate an event in James the First's reign which had a great effect on our young hero's mind. Certain persons in England, who' hated King James for his hard treatment of the Roman Catho- lic party, resolved to take the law into their own hands. They thought that if the king. Prince Henry, and the Parliament could be destroyed at one blow, they might take possession of Prince Charles and Princess Elizabeth, bring about a rev- olution and put the government into the hands of the Roman Catholics who would be helped by Spain. Robert Catesby was the chief of the con- spirators ; and for eighteen months he and a small band of desperate men worked in the utmost se- crecy at their hideous scheme. The day chosen for 200 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. its accomplishment was the fifth of November, 1605, the day on which Parliament met at Westminster. Everything was in readiness. Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder (not fifty-two as the Hampshire rhyme has it ) were stored beneath the: Parliament House. And Guido Fawkes, a daring adventurer, was in waiting in the cellar to set a light to them, and blow up King, Prince, and Parliament. But at the last moment, in spite of all their well-laid plans, in spite of all their wonderful secrecy, the plot leaked out. Lord Monteagle, a Roman Catholic Peer, received a mysterious warning from Tresham, one of the conspirators, whose courage failed him. Mont- eagle instantly told the Earl of Salisbury and the king. At midnight on the eve of the fifth, the cel- lars under the Parliament House were searched. There was Guido Fawkes, with touchwood and matches upon him, only waiting for the signal which was to be given him in a few hours. He was seized, dragged before the king and consigned to the Tower. The great heap of wood and coals in the cellar was torn down, and the barrels of gun- powder found beneath it. The conspirators fled. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 20I All Protestant England was roused to a frenzy of liorror and dread at the discovery of such a fearful crime. The guilty men were chased from county to county, till at last all of them were either killed fighting, or captured and brought next year to the block. And thus ended the Gunpowder Plot. But its memory is still kept alive in England by the yearly bonfires and fireworks and Guy Fawkes pro- cessions of the Fifth of November. This escape from a sudden and dreadful death, affected Prince Henry deeply. He was a boy of strong religious feelings. And from this time he never suffered any business to keep him from hearing a sermon every Tuesday, which was the day of the week on which the Gunpowder Plot was to have been carried out. But hearing of sermons was not the only sign of Prince Henry's piety. He was diligent in his own private prayers, gener- ally going apart three times a day to pray quietly by himself. He was most careful too of the good behavior of his household. And above all things he had a horror of profane swearing. At his three palaces, St. James's in London, Richmond, and 202 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Nonsuch, he ordered boxes to be kept for the fines he exacted from all those who used bad words ; and this money was given to the poor. There is a story told by Coke, the historian, how that the prince was once hunting a stag. The stag was spent, and crossing a road fell in with a butcher and his dog. The dog killed the stag; and when the hunting party came up and found their sport was over they were enraged, and tried to incense the prince against the butcher. But Henry answered quietly : " What if the butch- er's dog killed the stag? Could the butcher help it ? " The rest replied that if the king had been so served " he would have sworn so as no man could have endured it." " A^uay," rejoined the prince ; "a// the pleasure in the world is not worth an oath."* The prince was keenly interested in all foreign countries, and kept himself well informed upon their politics and customs by the large correspondence he now carried on with distinguished persons both at home and abroad. When he was just thirteen " Bi;i li. Life of Henry, Prince of Wales, p. 379. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 205 his curiosity caused no little amusement at the French Court. Prince Henry had long wished for an opportunity of learning something about the fortifications of Calais. And when the Prince de Joinville, who had been on a visit to England, re- turned to Paris, Henry sent an engineer of his own in the French prince's train, who made a careful examination of Calais and of the Rix-bank. This came to the ears of the French ambassador, who wrote in hot haste to the Court at Fontainebleau and to the Governor of Calais. But Henri Quatre was only entertained at the boyish inquisitiveness of his young cousin, and sent back word that he did not consider the occurrence betokened any danger- ous designs upon the kingdom of France. A far more important report was sent in to the prince in the same year by his gunner, Mr. Robert Tindal. This gunner was employed by the Vir- ginia Company established in 1606, to make a voy- age to America. He set out on December 19, 1606, with Captain Christopher Newport, in a fleet of three ships, and arrived at Chesapeake Bay about the beginning of May, 1607. A letter which he :io6 rHi: CHII.DREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. wrote to the prince on his arrival is in the Harleian collection of MSS., together with his journal of the voyage and a map of the James River. In his let- ter, dated Jamestown in Virginia, the twenty-second of June, 1607, he says : that this river was discovered by his fellow-adventurers, and that no Christian had ever been there before ; and that they were safely arrived and settled in that country, which they found to be in itself most fruitful, and of which they had taken a real and public possession in the name aftd to the nse of the King his Highness's father.* It seems to bring our young prince nearer to American children, to know that his youthful imag- ination was fired by accounts of the wonderful unexplored Western land — to think of him poring over the map of Richmond and the beautiful James River. What would he have thought, could he have foreseen a tithe of the wonders which have come to pass on those Transatlantic shores — the marvels of modern civilization; the railroads stretch- ing away into the wilderness of which Robert Tindal only saw the outskirts; the telegraph lines • Birch, p. 91. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 207 that bind together Europe and America; and, above all, the great nation that has grown out of the first bands of hardy adventurers who went out to Virginia with the prince's gunner, or who fled from King James's stern rule a few years later to the bleak New England coast. The account of these distant voyages must have been especially interesting to Prince Henry; for of all matters pertaining to the welfare of his country that which occupied his attention most was the British Navy. Sir Walter Raleigh was the young prince's close friend. From his childhood the boy attached himself to the last of the Elizabethan heroes, visiting him in his prison in the Tower, and taking council with him as he grew older on all matters of war and seamanship. He made many efforts to obtain Raleigh's release, and is reported to have said that "«^ king but his father would have kept such a bird in a cage^ But it was in vain ; and the prince was happily spared the shame of seeing his glorious friend die on the scaffold, a sacrifice to Spain — the very power from which Raleigh had fought and toiled to save his country in Elizabeth's 2o8 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. days. When Henry was ten years old, the Lord High Admiral Howard ordered a little ship to be built for the prince's instruction and amusement, by Phineas Pett, one of the Royal shipwrights at Chatham. This ship was twenty-eight feet long by twelve wide, " adorned with painting and carving, both within board and without." Can you imagine a more delightful possession for a boy of ten than this beautiful little ship, gay with ensigns and pen- nants .i* No wonder that he " shewed great delight in viewing " her, when she was brought to anchor outside the Tower where he and the king were then lodging. And his delight must have increased when he went on board her at Whitehall a few days later, accompanied by the Lord Admiral, Lord Worcester, and various other noblemen. They immediately weighed, and fell down as far as Paul's Wharf, under both topsails and foresail, and there coming to anchor, his Highness, in the usual form, baptized the ship with a great bowl of wine, giving her the name of Dis- dain.*^ Mr. Pett, the builder, was on board ; and the * Birch, p. 39. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 209 prince took him at once into his service, and formed a warm friendship with him. From this time the boy's interest in the navy grew keen; and we find constant mention made of visits to the Royal Dockyard at Woolwich, where, under Mr. Pett's guidance the prince was thoroughly in- structed in questions of ships and shipping. He closely watched the building of a splendid ves- sel which the king gave him for his own. She was launched in 1610 ; and was the largest ship that had then been built in England. " The keel was an hundred and fourteen feet long, and the cross- beam forty-four feet. It was able to carry sixty-four pieces of great ordnance, and the burthen was fourteen hundred tons." * On September 24, the King, the Queen, the Duke of York,t Princess Elizabeth, and a large company, went with Prince Henry to see his great ship launched. But owing to the narrowness of the dock, the launch failed. So the prince had to return next morning ; and in the midst of a terrific thunderstorm he stood on • Birch, p. 208. t Afterwards Charles the First. 210 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. her deck as she floated out into the river, giving her the name, Prince Royal. Next year Henry deter- mined to examine personally into the condition of the navy. He therefore made a private journey to Chatham, and spent three days closely inspecting all the shipping and storehouses there, and at Queenborough, Stroud, and Gravesend, making careful notes of the state of each ship in his own notebook from Mr. Pett's and Sir Robert Mansel's information, " no other persons being suffered to come near." In January, 1610, Prince Henry gave a great banquet to his father at St. James's Palace, where he now kept his separate Court and gathered round him the most promising young men in the king- dom. The banquet was preceded by a tourney at Whitehall, in which the prince took part, in the presence of the king and queen, the foreign am- bassadors and all the greatest personages of the realm. Princess Elizabeth helped her brother to do the honors of the banquet, and distributed the prizes won at the tilting match, which were trinkets garnished with diamonds, the king handing them HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 211 to her. The banquet was not over till ten at night ; by which time King James, who was easily bored, especially with anything done by his son, had gone away. But Henry and Elizabeth, full of the enjoy- ment of young hosts, went off to a comedy which lasted two hours, and then returned to the galler)', where a fresh supper had been set. It was a most gorgeous affair. The crystal dishes were filled with sweetmeats of all shapes — fountains of rosewater, windmills, dryads, soldiers on horseback, pleasure gardens, the planetary system, etc. Prince Henry led his sister twice round the table to see all these marvels, and they then departed, leaving the com- pany to their own devices. A most crazy company it must have been. For, no sooner had the prince and princess gone, than " the guests scrambled for the plunder, broke down the table and carried off, not only the supper, but all it was served in, to the very water bottles."* In this same year Henry was created Prince of Wales. This was the occasion for further display, such as King James delighted in. There were • Green's Princesses. VoLV. P- 170- 212 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. processions of barges on the river, banquets, splen- did dresses, tilting matches in the Tiltyard, and a solemn and magnificent ceremony "within the great white chamber in the palace of Westmin- ster," when, in the presence of both Houses of Parliament and an immense company, the prince was declared Prince of Great Britain and Wales. Robed in purple velvet he knelt before the king, who gave him with his own hands the crown, the sword, the ring, and the gold rod of the principal- ity over which Llewellyn once ruled. A very gal- lant young figure must our prince have been. He was sixteen years old ; a tall, well-made lad, with somewhat broad shoulders and a small waist. His hair was auburn ; his face long, with a broad fore- head ; " a piercing eye ; a most gracious smile, with a terrible frown." Henry had some years before been created Duke of Cornwall. And although these titles and dig- nities sound vei-y grand and imposing for a boy of sixteen, yet his father's warning was fulfilled in his case. The agumentation of honours that fell to him, was " but in cares and heavy burthens." HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 213 He was not merely a ruler in name. He managed his estates well and wisely. Not only were his tenants more contented and happy, and better off than they had ever been before ; but by -his good management he so improved the value of his lands, that they brought him in an immensely increased revenue. Besides the three palaces we have mentioned, Prince Henry purchased with his own money, in 1612, beautiful Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire, from the widow of the famous Earl of Leicester. And in the same year King James gave his son another house connected closely with the story of Leicester and Amy Robsart — Woodstock Manor in Oxfordshire. But the prince's days were num- bered, and as far as we know he never visited his new purchase of Kenilworth. His health was not in a satisfactory state in this year of 1612, and he was careless about it. While he was staying at his palace of Richmond in June, he took great delight in swimming in the Thames after supper on the warm summer evenings ; a most dangerous prac- tice for any one. His attendants besought him to 214 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. give it up. But he, like most of the Stuarts, was fond of his own way. He was deaf to all entreaties, and went on with his swimming. He also took much pleasure in walking beside the Thames in the moonlight, "to hear the sound and echo of the trumpets," regardless of the evening dews which rose cold and damp along the river. Then in exceedingly hot weather, he made a desperate jour- ney on horseback, of ninety-six miles in two days, from Richmond to Belvoir Castle, to meet the king who was on a great progress — riding sixty miles the first day in nine hours. The progress ended at Woodstock, where the prince entertained his father and mother and Princess Elizabeth, after making several hasty and fatiguing journeys thither to see that all was in order in his new manor. He then returned to Richmond and busied himself with preparations for the coming of the young Elector Palatine, on whose marriage with Princess Elizabeth all Henry's hopes were fixed. The Elector arrived. But already Prince Henry was seriously ill. However his "pluck," as we should say now, carried him on for a time. He HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 217 removed with his court to St. James's to receive the young Elector, for whom he conceived a great friendship. He even played a tennis match with his future brother-in-law on the twenty-fourth of October. But the next day he was much worse, and could with difficulty manage to go to church (it was a Sunday), and dine afterwards with the king. This was the last time he went out; for in the afternoon he was seized with sudden faintness and sickness and had to take his leave. That night he was in a burning fever. The ignorant physicians of those days mismanaged him hope- lessly. Some of their remedies to lower the fever sound almost too absurd to be treated seriously — such as a cock, newly-killed, split down the back and applied all reeking hot to the soles of his feet. Raleigh from his prison sent him a cordial, which the old hero's enemies of course pretended was poison. However after it had been duly tested, the prince was allowed to take it, and it gave him temporary relief. But nothing availed. He grew worse and worse. His faithful friend. Archbishop Abbot, came to him and prayed with him. The 2l5 THE CHILDREN OK WESTMINSTER ABBEY. fever increased in violence. And on the fifth of November, the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, the archbishop told the prince of his extreme dan- ger, and asked him if he should die, " whether or no he was well pleased to submit himself to the will of God ? " To which the prince replied, " with all his heart." A few hours later the end was near. Henry was past speaking ; and the archbishop, leaning over him, called upon him to believe, to hope and trust only in Christ. He then spoke louder : Sir, hear you me .-' hear you me ? hear you me ? If you hear me, in certain sign of your faith and hope in the blessed resurrection, give us, for our comfort, a sign by lifting u]) your hands. This the prince did, lifting up both his hands together. And the archbishop with bitter tears, poured out by his Highness's bedside, a most pathetic prayer. At a quarter before eight that evening the hopes of the country were gone. Henry, Prince of Wales, was dead, who, had he lived, might have changed the whole course of events in English history during the seventeenth century. And the HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 219 heir to the crown was Charles, Duke of York, destined within forty years to die upon the scaf- fold. While our gallant young prince lay dying, the king showed himself as selfish and indifferent as we might expect. He came once to visit his son : but fearing that the fever might be contagious, he went away without seeing him, and retired to Theobalds, Lord Salisbury's estate. The Princess Elizabeth was kept away from the prince for the same reason. But she tried her best to see him, coming disguised in the evening to St. James's and endeavoring to gain access, but in vain, to her dearly-loved brother, who asked for her constantly during his illness — almost his last intelligible words being, " Where is my dear sister ? " But if his father showed want of feeling, the whole English nation mourned their young prince. He was buried at Westminster Abbey on the seventh of December, with all possible pomp. Prince Charles and the Elector Palatine were the chief mourners, attended by a train of two thou- sand mourners. Through the streets, thronged 220 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. with weeping people, wound the great procession, with banners carried by nobles, led horses draped in black bearing the scutcheons of the prince's different titles and estates, all the notables of England and Scotland, clergy and peers, privy councillors and ambassadors. Then came the fu- neral car bearing the cofhn, on which lay a beau- tiful effigy of the prince, dressed in his state robes ; and the sight of it " caused a fearful outcry among the people, as if they felt their own ruin in that loss." * Henry, Prince of Wales, was laid to rest in the south aisle of Henry the Seventh's Chapel, in the vault which had just been made to receive his grandmother, the unhappy Mary, Queen of Scots, whose body had been removed there a month before. Over Mary's grave King James erected a monument even more magnificent than Queen Elizabeth's in the north aisle. Yet not a thought did the selfish father give to the grave of his son. But Prince Henry's memorial is a less perish- able one than "brass or stony monument." He has left behind him a memory fragrant with all * State Papers. Dec. 19, 1612. HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES. 221 that makes youth lovely and manhood noble — the record of a pure and good life, which will last, as the memory of every good life must last, when stone and marble has crumbled to dust. Note. — While writing the above words on Gunpowder Plot, Jan. 24, 1885, Westminster Hall, the House of Commons and the White Tower in the Tower of I,ondon, all closely connected with the histories of these children of Westminster, were partially wrecked by " forces " — to use the words of an Austrian writer — " such as to make those of Guy Fawkes' time look almost childish." CHAPTER ::. LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. ON the north side of Henry the Seventh's Chapel, close to King Henry's tomb, there is a small side chapel, divided off by a low wall of carved stone, and almost filled up by a magnificent monument. A splendid personage of the time of Charles the First, remarkably handsome, and dressed in robes of state, lies on the tomb beside his fair wife. Allegorical figures stand at the four corners. The recumbent effigies are in brass, richly gilded. Behind their heads kneel three children, a boy and two girls, beautifully carved in marble ; and above this trio an exquisite child leans on his elbow, tired out with grief and fallen gently asleep. Standing beside this tomb, Dean Stanley says : We seem to be present in the C ourt of Charles as we look at its fantastic ornaments (" Fame even bursting herself, and LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 223 trumpets to tell the news of his so sudden fall ") and its pom- pous inscriptions calling each State in Europe severally to attest the several virtues of this " Enigma of the World." * Who, we may well ask, is this man who lies buried among the tombs of the kings of England, in state far exceeding that accorded to many sov- ereigns ? Every one who has read the history of the reigns of James the First and Charles the First will re- member the most famous, and perhaps most dan- gerous of all the court favorites who helped to bring ruin upon England — George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. His story reads like a chapter out of the Arabian Nights : Never any man in any age, nor, I believe, in any country or nation, rose in so short a time to so much greatness of honour, fame, and fortune, upon no other advantage or recommendation than the beauty and gracefulness of his person, t Young and exceedingly handsome, George Vil- liers, the son of a Leicestershire squire, was taken •Stanley. " Memorials of Westminster." p. 237. t Clarendon. Vol. 1. p. 16. 224 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. into favor by James the First, on the disgrace of his first favorite, the Earl of Rochester. In an incredibly short space of time " Steenie," as his royal masters called him, rose through every rank of the peerage to a dukedom, and to the actual di- rection of English policy. Haughty, reckless, sel- fish, his only good quality was his personal bravery. This was the man whose evil influence made itself felt throughout England, who plunged the country into disastrous wars and encouraged King Charles in those fatal measures which at last brought him to the scaffold. When Charles the First came to the throne in 1625, Buckingham was at the height of his glory and power. In vain did Parliament remonstrate with the king. In vain did they peti- tion him again and again to rid himself of a favor- ite who was becoming more hated and dreaded by the country each year. In vain did they impeach Buckingham. Charles, in his blind affection, took all the blame of the duke's deeds upon himself — burnt the remonstrance of the Commons — and actually dissolved Parliament in order to save his favorite. LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 225 But wliat the Commons of England failed to do, came to pass by the hand of one discontented man. The Duke of Buckingham, after wasting men, money, and English prestige in one disastrous expedition to help the French Protestants at La Rochelle, was on the eve of setting out for a second attempt to relieve the beleagured town. He was at Portsmouth, and was to embark the very next day, when he was stabbed by John Felton, a lieu- tenant in the navy who had been disappointed of promotion. All England and the court rejoiced at the death of the favorite. But King Charles " flung himself upon his bed in a passion of tears when the news reached him."* On his first visit to the widowed Duchess of Buckingham he promised to be a father to her sons. He ordered the duke to be buried in the Chapel of Henry the Seventh — which hitherto had been reserved for anointed kings. And it is George Villiers who lies in state to this day on the splendid tomb we have been looking at. Soon after the duke's death, the lovely boy who •"Short History of English People." Green, p. 488. 226 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. leans sleeping above his father's monument was born. The king stood godfather to the baby at his christening, together with Francis, Earl of Rutland, the duchess's father. "After some compliments who should give the name," the king called the baby Francis, and the grandfather gave him his benediction, which was in the very pleasant form of seven thousand pounds a year. King Charles faithfully kept the promise he'had made the duchess. Alas ! it had been well for him had he kept all other promises as faithfully. He was indeed a father to young Francis and to his handsome, headstrong, worthless elder brother the young Duke of Buckingham. The boys were brought up with the royal chil- dren under the same tutors and governors. They were sent quite young to Trinity College, Cam- bridge, where their names were entered in the col- lege-book in the same year as that of Prince Charles. And here among other^^famous and learned men, they made the acquaintance of Abra- ham Cowley, the poet, who had lately published TOMB OF GEORGE VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 229 his pastoral comedy " Love's Riddle," which had been performed by members of the college. From Cambridge the two brothers went to travel under the care of Mr. William Aylesbury, who was appointed their tutor by the king. But their sojourn abroad was short. Public affairs had been growing darker and darker at home. And at last, in 1642, there was an open breach between the king and the Parlia- ment. The Royal Standard was raised at Notting- ham, August 25, and England was plunged into civil war, the most horrible of all scourges that can come on any country. Francis Villiers was fourteen years old, and his brother, the young duke, a year older. Boys as they were, they now tried to show their gratitude to the king for his care of them. Upon the out- break of the Civil War they hastened back to Eng- land. The king's headquarters were at Oxford ; and his nephew, the famous Prince Rupert, kept the whole country between Oxford and London in constant alarm with his sudden raids and fierce skirmishes. To Oxford then the two young broth- 230 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. ers came. They were a beautiful pair, inheriting from both their parents " so graceful a body, as gave lustre to the ornament of the mind." Full of headstrong courage, they " laid their lives and their fortunes at the king's feet," and chose Prince Rupert and Lord Gerard as their tutors in the art of War. They soon had their first lesson ; for they were present at the storming of the Close at Lich- field on March 2, 1643. When they returned to Oxford, happily without harm after their first fight, their mother, the duchess, was very angry with Lord Gerard for " tempting her sons into such danger." But he told her it was by the boys' own wish, " and the more the danger the greater the honor." Parliament at first seemed to look on this esca- pade as a serious offence, for they seized upon the brothers' estates. But they were soon restored in consideration of the two boys' extreme youth. However, says Bryan Fairfax, their historian, " the young men kept it (their fortune) no longer than till they came to be at an age to forfeit it again."* *" LiC2 of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham." Bryan Fairfax. LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 231 To keep these young fire-eaters out of fresh hon- orable danger, the king placed them in the care of the Earl of Northumberland, and sent them abroad again. They spent the next four or five years in France and Italy, living chiefly in Florence and Rome, where they kept as great state as many sov- ereign princes. It was the fashion of those days to send young noblemen for a time to foreign coun- tries; and the result in a good many cases was that they abjured Protestantism and returned to England either concealed or avowed Roman Cath- olics. But the Villiers brothers "brought their religion home again, wherein they had been edu- cated under the eye of the most devout and best of kings." * The moment at which the young men returned was a critical one. The royal cause had been going from bad to worse. And at the beginning of 1648 England was in the hands of Cromwell and Fairfax. The king, given up by the Scots the year before to the Parliamentarians, was a prisoner at Carisbrooke Castle in the Isle of Wight. The •Fairfajt 232 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Royalist forces were scattered and broken ; and it seemed an almost hopeless task to make any further resistance in the king's behalf. Neverthe- less, there were still a few faithful followers left ; and the old English love for the monarchy still blazed up here and there in fierce outbursts against the Parliament and its army. But the Parliamenta- rians despised all these attempts, until in the spring of 1648 a serious rising took place in Kent, which was suppressed after a heavy fight at Maid- stone. It was just at this juncture that the young Duke of Buckingham and his brother Francis re- turned to England. Strong, active, and courageous, they were burning with zeal to venture the'r large estates for the crown on the first opportunity. They had not long to wait. No sooner was the Kentish rising quelled than the Royalists crossed the Thames into Essex, and collected a large force at Colchester, intending from thence to march on London. Fairfax invested the town, and beseiged it for two months until it fell, August 27. Meanwhile the Earl of Holland had offered his LORD FRANCIS VILLI ERS. 233 services to the queen, his late mistress, in Paris, and informed her of his resolution to adventure everything for the king. The young Villiers threw in their lot with Lord Holland, and declared them- selves ready and willing to sacrifice their estates and their lives if need be in the royal cause. The siege of Colchester which engaged the main body of the army under Fairfax seemed to offer a good opportunity for a rising nearer London. The young Duke of Buckingham was made General of the Horse. Lord Francis Villiers and various other young noblemen were given other posts. And these hot-blooded lads, impatient for action, urged Lord Holland to begin his perilous under- taking without further delay. Unhappily for them the whole business was mis- erably mismanaged. Such a rising could only hope to succeed if it were kept the most profound secret. But so far from being a secret, it was, says Clarendon, *' the common discourse of the town." There was a great appearance every morning at Lord Holland's lodging of officers who were known to have served the king — . 234 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. his commission showed in many hands ; and no question be- ing more commonly asked than — when doth my Lord Hol- land go out? and the answer — Such and such a day; and the hour he did take horse, when he was accompanied by an hundred horse from his house was publickly talked of two or three days before.* But these indiscretions were not all. The first rendezvous was to be at Kingston-on-Thames — the charming old town full of old red brick houses, and sunny walled gardens full of lilacs and labur- nums and cedars of Lebanon, ten miles southwest of London. Here Lord Holland stayed for two nights and one whole day, expecting numbers to flock to his standard, " not only of officers, but of common men who had promised and listed them- selves under several officers." t During his stay, some officers and soldiers, both of foot and horse did come. But the greater number of those who resorted to Kingston were " many persons of honor and quality," who came down from London for the day in their coaches to visit the little army, and •Clarendon. Vol. XI. p. 102. tibid. Vol. XT. p. 103. Ill I I \ iM I -> \ 1 1 1 1 1 1 I LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 237 returned to town again, " to provide what was still wanting and resolved to be with him soon again." Is it not a pitiable story ? Want of plan, of man- agement, of forethought, of seriousness. The whole thing arranged like a play upon the stage. The fair ladies, and the gallant cavaliers in their curly wigs and deep Vandyke collars, driving down on the hot summer day to visit their friends, and laugh and talk over the great victory that without doubt they would win — the victory that would restore the king to his throne, and drive the Parliamenta- rians into the sea. And beautiful young Francis Villiers, in the heyday of his j^outh and strength — his debts all paid two days before * — longing for a chance to strike a blow for the king who had been a father to him. How the grim puritan soldiers must have laughed at such a set of amateurs in the art of War. They were not far-off — those grave fighting men. The chief officer with Lord Holland's band was one Dalbeer, a Dutch malcontent. He seems to • When he left London he ordered his steward, Mr. John May, to bring him a list of his debts, and he so charged his estate with them, that the Parliament, who seized on the estate, payed the debt. — Fairfax. 238 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY, have been as incompetent as the rest of the little army ; for he kept no watch at night round the camp. Early on the morning of July 7, the Parliament- ary Colonel Rich, " eminent for praying but of no fame for fighting," surprised the town with a troop of horse. There was a general scrimmage. No one was ready to receive them. Lord Holland and a number of his followers made the best of their way out of the town, never offering to charge the enemy. Most of the footsoldiers and some of the officers " made shift to conceal themselves un- til they found means to retire to their close man- sions in London." * But Francis Villiers alone seems to have made a stand. At the head of his troop, his horse hav- ing been killed under him, he got to an oak-tree in the highway about two niijes from Kingston, where he stood with his back against it, defend- ing himself, scorning to ask quarter, and they barbarously refusing to give it ; till with nine wounds in his beautiful face and body, he was slain, t * Clarendon. Vol. XI. p. 104. t Fairfax. LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 239 So died Francis Villiers, in the twentieth year of his age — " This noble, valiant and beautiful youth," says Fairfax, " A youth of rare beauty and comeliness," says Clarendon. And so ended the unhappy fight of Kingston. Dalbeer defended himself till he was killed. Lord Holland with a hundred horse, wandered away and was caught at an inn at St. Neot's in Hertfordshire and thence sent 23risoner to Windsor, of which place he had but lately been constable. The Duke of Buckingham reached London, and hid until he could escape to Holland " where the prince was ; who received him with great grace and kindness." * And in six months the king for whom young Francis had died, was led out to execution at Whitehall. Lord Francis' body was brought by water from Kingston up the Thames to York House in the Strand ; and was then embalmed and laid in his father's vault in Henry the Seventh's Chapel. The late duke's magnificent monument, and the position in which it was placed, gave rise to much comment at the time. No monument had been •Clarendon. Vol. XI. p. 105. 240 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. erected to King James. And when Charles the First sent for Lord Weston " to contrive the work of the tomb " for his favorite, Lord Weston, putting into words the opinion of the greater part of Eng- land "told his Majesty that not only our nation, but others, would talk of it, if he should make the duke a tomb, and not his father."* The tomb, however, was made. Henry the Seventh's Chapel for the first time was opened to a person not of royal lineage. And by the irony of fate, this burial of a royal favorite paved the way for the interments of many others in the next thirty years who were not of royal blood, and were bit- terly opposed to kings and all that pertained to them, save power. Two years after Francis Villiers'was killed at Kingston, Ireton, Cromwell's son-in-law, was buried in a vault at the extreme east of Henry the Seventh's Chapel. Then came Blake, the first of England's naval heroes — Colonel Mackworth, one of Cromwell's Council — Sir William Constable, one of the regicides — Worsley, Oliver's "great and *" Court and Times of Charles the First." Vol. I. p 391. I LORD FRANCIS VILLIERS. 24I rising favorite." And Bradshaw, Lord President of the High Court of Justice, was laid " in a su- perb tomb among the kings." Ten years after Francis Villiers' death, Crom- well's favorite daughter — the sweet Elizabeth Claypole — was buried in a vault close to the en- trance of the Villiers Chapel. She was the "Betty" of Cromwell's earlier letters, "who be- longs to the sect of the seekers rather than the finders. Happy are they who find — most happy are they who seek." * The great Protector never held up his head after the death of this lovable woman ; and within a month of his daughter's funeral " his most serene and renowned highness, Oliver, Lord Protector, was taken to his rest " f in the same Chapel in which we have spent so much time of late. If we needed any fresh proof that the great Ab- bey of Westminster is a sign and symbol of recon- ciliation, here is one. Within its walls Kings and Covenanters, Puritan women, and gallant young •Carlyle's Cromwell. Vol. I. p 295. t Commonwealth Mercury. Sep. 2-9, 1658. 242 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Cavalier nobles who fought against those women's husbands and fathers, lie side by side. The feuds, the hatreds, the heart-burnings, the differences, political and religious, are all forgotten ; and noth- ing is left but the common brotherhood of man with man, in the still peaceful atmosphere of the Abbey Church of St. Peter. CHAPTER XT. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. TN 1637 a little daughter was born to King •^ Charles the First, at St. James's Palace. Arch- bishop Laud christened her privately twelve days later; and she was named after her aunt, Anne of Austria, Queen of France. There were great rejoicings at the baby's birth. The University of Cambridge alone produced more than one hundred and thirty odes, in which she and her sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, were com- pared to Juno, Minerva, Venus, the Fates, the Graces, the Elder Muses, and many other classic celebrities. In the face of all these protestations of loyal affection no one would imagine that within six years Princess Anne's father would be fighting with his own subjects for his throne and his liberty, 243 244 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. and that two of his children would be in the hands of his enemies. But little Anne was spared these sad experiences. Very soon after her birth she was assigned her place in the royal nursery at Richmond, with her regular suite of attendants, ten in number. From her earliest infancy she was extremely delicate. " A constant feverish cough showed a tendency to disease of the lungs ; " and before she was four years old she died of consumption. The short account of her death is most touching : Being minded by those about her to call upon God even when the pangs of death were upon her ; " I am not able," saithshe, "to say my long prayer" (meaning the Lord's Prayer), "but I will say my short one : Lighten mine eyes, O Lord, lest / sleep the sleep of death." This done the little lamb gave up the ghost* She was buried in the tomb of her great-grand- mother, the beautiful Mary, Queen of Scots, in the South Aisle of Henry the Seventh's Chapel. The curious and very rare engraving, which we are fortunately able to reproduce, was published a * "Fuller's Worthies." Vol. II. p. io8. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 247 few months after ]ier death. The little creature, in a close-fitting skull-cap covering her head and fastened under her chin, stands grasping a rose in her little hand, with a thoughtful expression on her baby face. Based on the spelling of the name of the little princess we find the following quaint verse : Anna is like a circle's endless frame, For read it forward, backward, 'tis the same. Eternity is circular and round, And Anna hath eternal glory found.* In the same year, 1640, that little Anna found " eternal glory," her brother Henry was born at Oatlands Park in Surrey. There is a strong resemblance between this young prince, and his uncle Henry, Prince of Wales, with whom we are so well acquainted. Both were grave and studious beyond their years. Both were diligent and active in whatever work came in their way to do. Both were strong Protest- ants. Both cared for the society and friendship of • " English Princesses." M. A. Greene, p. 395. 240 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. older and wiser men, rather than that of the gay, frivolous young courtiers of their own age. In face and form they must have been somewhat alike ; but the circumstances of their lives were different. Nothing could outwardly have been more happy and successful than the life of Henry, Prince of Wales, the son of a poor Scotch king, raised sud- denly to the position of heir to the most prosper- ous kingdom in Europe. Henry, Duke of Glou- cester, on the contrary, was destined to take his share from his earliest childhood in the disasters of his family. Before he was two years old his troubles began. While his father, as an old royal- ist writer expresses it, " was hunted from place to place like a partridge upon the mountains," his mother was over in Holland, where she gathered together an army with the proceeds of the crown jewels which she sold or pawned. She landed in England in 1643, fought several battles on her own account, and joined the king in Warwickshire on July 13, sleeping the night before in Shakes peare's house at Stratford-on-Avon, which then be- longed to the poet's daughter, Mrs. Hall. ANNK, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 249 Henry of Oatlands, as the little Duke of Glou- cester was called from his birthplace, was left meanwhile by his parents at St. James's Palace, with his sister Elizabeth. The Parliament on the outbreak of the Civil War in 1642, secured complete possession of London, and the two chil- dren remained in their hands in a sort of honora- ble captivity. Thev were both of so tender years that they were neither sensible of their father's sufferings nor capable to relieve them ; so that their innocent harmlessness on any account not only protected them from the malice of their enemies, but proved to be a meanes to work ontheir evil mindes to pro- vide for them not only an honorable sustenance, but a royal attendance.* Little Henry must have been a charming child ; and we can well imagine that he was kindly treated by his captors, who appeared to have entertained a notion that a royal child brought up under the, stern puritan rule, and separated so early from the evil influences of courts and cavaliers, might be a good ruler for England when he grew up. The •Short view of the Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester, 1661, p. 16. 250 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. boy's natural disposition was all in favor of this possibility. Such was the seriousness of his tender age, as wrought ad- miration in his attendants, for he proceeded in so sweet a method, that he was able in point of Religion — to render an account beyond many whose years should have manifested a surer and more certain judgment.* The little boy did not even know his father by sight;, for they had never met since the king left London in 1642. But when Henry was six years old an unexpected opportunity offered itself of learning more about his absent father. Henry's elder brother, the Duke of York, afterwards King James the Second, was taken prisoner at Oxford in 1646. His servants were all dismissed ; and he was brought to London to live with the Duke of Gloucester and Princess Elizabeth. This new society was exceedingly pleasing to the young innocent, who began now to hearken to his brother's dis- courses with man-like attention imbibing from his lips a new, though natural affection, towards his unknown and distressed father, t *Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester, p. 17. t " Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester." p. 19. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 25 1 This pleasant companionship between the two brothers lasted for nearly two years. Then the Duke of York escaped from St. James's and went to Holland to join his brother Charles, Prince of Wales, who had fitted out a fleet to attempt to rescue his father. Henry and Elizabeth were again left alone. Princess Elizabeth however kept her little brother constantly informed " of the hourely (langxT bo.h I'.iemselves and father stood in." Poor little children ! Our hearts ache for the eight- year-old boy and the thirteen-year-old girl who were trembling for their own and their father's safety. Their fears for the king were only too well founded. The extreme party in Parliament had been stead- ily gaining in strength. And on December 6, 1648, Colonel Pride " purged " the House of Commons of one hundred and forty-three members, who were willing to treat with the king and accept the con- cessions he offered. On December 18, King Charles was removed from Hurst Castle in the Isle of Wight, where he had been closely imprisoned, and brought to St. James's ; and thence he was taken to Windsor Castle. 252 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. On January 20, 1649, the king appeared before the High Court of Justice assembled in Westmin- ster Hall, On January 27, judgment of death was pronounced against " Charles Stuart, King of England." Two days later, upon January 29, which was the day before he dyed, he desired he might see and take his last farewell to his children, which with some regret was granted, and the Lady Elizabeth and the Duke of Glou- cester brought to him. The King taking the Duke upon his knee, said " Sweet heart, now will they cut off thy father's head, mark child what I say, they will cut off my head, and perhaps make thee a King, but you must not be a Kirg so long as your brothers Charles and James be living, for they will cut off your brothers' heads (when they can catch them) and cut off thy head too at the last, and therefore I charge you not to be made a King by them." At which words the child smiling said, " I will be torn in pieces first," which falling so unexpectedly from one so young made the King rejoice exceedingly. . . . And after that day he never saw his father's face more.* Whatever were King Charles's faults, and they were many, he at least knew how to die. The next day after this interview, he came on foot from 1 " Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester." HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 255 St. James's to his banqueting room at Whitehall, and laid his head on the block like a gallant and Christian gentleman. What a strange and tragic memory that meeting must have been for the little Duke of Gloucester. At last he saw his unknown father ; and found him a sad, worn man, on the eve of dying a terrible death. But the child's troubles were not to end here. * The next year he and his sister were taken to Carisbroke Castle in the Isle of Wight, where their father had been confined for so long. And there Elizabeth fell into a consumption and died. " Now is the little Duke left totally alone, to take comfort only in his solitary meditations,"* says his historian, who indulges in rather violent expres- sions against the Protectorate. For he goes on to call the Parliament " those monsters at Westmin- ster." The so-called " monsters " were somewhat embarrassed by the possession of the young duke ; and at last resolved to send him abroad to com- plete his education on certain conditions. •"Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester." 256 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Henry was now eleven years old ; and the pros- pect of comparative freedom was very welcome to him. " My father told me " (said he to one about him) " that God would provide for me, which he hath abundantly done, in that he delivereth me as a Lamb out of the pawes of the devouring Lyon." * A tutor was chosen for the Prince ; and an al- lowance of three thousand pounds a year was to be granted him if he fulfilled the following conditions : L He was to go to a Protestant School. n. He was to correspond with the Parliament by letter, and his tutor was to render account of his proficiency and learning. HL He was not to go near his mother or broth- ers, or have anything to do with them, " but in all things utterly disown them." IV. That he should immediately return upon notice from the Parliament given to him for that purpose. The third condition was one which the boy found it impossible to keep. For the moment he landed in France he went to see his mother and •" Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester," ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 257 brothers, " takes the blessing of the one and salutes the other, and after a short stay for the future im- provement of his learning, he goes to Leyden, and settles there to study." * For three years Henry stayed at Leyden, and eagerly profited by the teaching of the wise men who gathered to this famous university from all parts of Europe. " Such was hisforwardnesse and zeal to learning, and to attain the arts, that he would steal from his houres of rest to adde to them of his study."t He was beloved and hon- ored by all who knew him, and was soon pro- nounced " a most compleat Gentleman, and rarely accomplished." In looks he resembled his father ; "his hair of a sad or dark brown, of a middle stature, strong judgment, a deep and reaching un- derstanding, and a most pleasing affable delivery."! Our prince was no mere pedant. Young as he was, he knew that there is other precious knowl- edge besides mere book-learning — though that was pleasant to his studious mind. A man who is * " Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester." p. 26. tibid. tibid. 258 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. to rule men must understand them. He must study men, or he will only be able to govern by theories, which are always dangerous things if they are not backed up by practical knowledge. The duke believed in the great importance of a knowledge of the world and of human nature. Therefore when he was fourteen, after laying the foundation of his learning by hard work at Leyden, he returned to the Court of France to study men instead of books for a time, in order to make him- self more capable of assisting his brother Charles, if he should come to his father's throne again. The compact between Henry and the Parlia- ment was completely at an end. Whether he ever received the allowance of three thousand pounds seems doubtful. Fuller declares it never was paid. The lad was therefore free to go where he chose. He travelled a great deal. And in France he always tried to know and imitate the best," not being caught with novelties, nor infected with cus- tomes, nor given to affectation." * In Paris a sore trial of the boy's strength of * " Life of Henry, Duke of Gloucester." p. 39. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, 259 principle awaited him. Charles the Second, the king without a kingdom, left Paris in 1654 with the Duke of York, and returned to Flanders where most of his exile was spent, leaving Henry with his mother. Queen Henrietta Maria, in order to pur- sue his studies. The queen was a strong Roman Catholic ; and no sooner had Charles left the French Court than she tried by every means in her power to convert her son Henry to her own church. She first told him that his brothers' for- tunes were almost desperate: but that if he would embrace the Romish Faith, the Pope and other European Princes would at once take part in King Charles's cause. Then she said that as the duke had no fortune of his own, and as she could give him none, if he would but abjure his faith the Queen of France would confer rich abbeys and benefices upon him, such as would enable him to live in that splendour as was suitable to his birth, that in a little time the pope would make him a Cardinal ; by which he might be able to do the king, his brother, much service, and contribute to his recovery ; whereas without this he must be 26o THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. exposed to great necessity and misery, for that she was not able any longer to give him maintenance. * But no argument the queen used could shake the resolute boy. He reminded her of the pre- cepts he had received from the king, his father, who had died in the faith of the Anglican Church. He put her in mind of the promise he had lately made to his eldest brother, never to change his religion. And he besought the queen to press him no further, until he could at least communi- cate with the king his brother. Queen Henrietta knew well enough what Charles's views were on the subject. So finding that her persuasions availed nothing, she dismissed the tutor, and packed Prince Henry off to the Abbey of Pontoise, of which her almoner, Montague, was abbot. Here the duke was entirely separated from every one but Roman Catholics ; and a very bad time he had, for every hour some one or other was trying to break down his resolution. Happily for the boy, the king heard of his mother's doings. In a fury he sent off the Marquis of Ormonde la • "Somers' Civil Tract." p. 316. ikl.Ncl Sb ELIZABETH IN PRISON. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE 'OF GLOUCESTER. 263 Pans, who managed the disagreeable negotiation so well, that the queen at last said, ungraciously enough, "that the duke might dispose of himself as he pleased, and that she would not concern her- self any further, nor see him any more." * Lord Ormonde thereupon hastened to Pontoise, brought the duke away rejoicing at his release, and took him shortly after, to join the king in Flanders. Henry now had some experience of warlike training ; for during the next two or three years he and his brothers joined the French against the Spaniards. And when Cromwell's alliance with their French relatives made it impossible for them to keep up any further connection with the French Court, the young men joined Conde in the Spanish camp for a time. The Duke of Gloucester, how- ever, soon tired of soldiering ; and went back again to his books and his wise friends at Leyden, where he gained great renown by his retired, stu- dious life, until another change came over the for- tunes of his family. • " Somer's Civil Notes." 264 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. In 1660 Cromwell was dead. England was weary of war and revolution — weary of army rule — and when Charles the Second signed the Dec- laration of Breda on April 4, the English nation was rejoiced to return to its natural government by King and Parliament. The Duke of Gloucester was at Breda when that famous Declaration was signed. He accompanied his brothers to England, and rode on the king's left hand in his triumphal entry into London on May 29. Henry now proved that in prosperity, as in adversity, his love of work, almost the best gift that any young lad can possess, was as strong as ever. " He was active, and loved business, was apt to have particular friendships; and had an insinuating temper which was generally very ac- ceptable." * The king was strongly attached to him, and was vexed when he saw that no post was left for this favorite brother ; for Monk was General, and the Duke of York was in command of the Fleet. However, although Lord Clarendon considered the post was beneath his dignity, Henry begged to be • "Bishop Burnet's History of his own Time." Vol. I. p. 248. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 265 made Lord Treasurer, " for he could not bear an idle life." Alas ! he only enjoyed this prosperous change in his fortune for four short months. "The mirth and entertainments " of the restoration, " raised his blood so high, that he took the smallpox." The ignorant physicians bled him three times, thus effectually taking away his last chance of recovery. And on September 13, 1660, this promising young prince died at Whitehall, the very palace where, eleven years before, his sad, broken father had been executed. All the nation mourned the loss of the duke, for every one loved and admired him. With his namesake Prince Henry he completed not twenty years, and what was said of the unkle, was as true of the nephew. In searching at the British Museum a little while ago for documents concerning this prince, we came upon a mention under his name in the catalogue of " Some Tcarcs." Curious to sec w Iku they were, we were told that the book which con- 266 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. tained them was too valuable to be brought into the great reading room, where hundreds of work- ers congregate in busy silence every day. So we were taken through locked doors into an inner sanc- tum ; and there the precious document was intrusted to us. It was a large sheet of stiff paper, with wide black borders, and on it a long poem (of which I can only give a few lines) was printed, entitled, SOME TEARES DROPT ON THE HERSE OF THE INCOMPARABLE PRINCE HENRY DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. Fatal September to the Royal line Has snatch'd one Heroe of our hopeful Trine From Earth; 'tis strange heaven should not prrtJeclare A loss so grievous by some Blazing Star, Which might our senses overjoy'd, alarm, And time give to prepare for so great harm. ********** He was Fair Fruit sprung from a Royal Bud, And grown as great by fair Renown as Blood ; Ripe too too soon ; for in a Youth so green An Harvest was of gray-haired Wisdome seen. ANNE, AND HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 267 Mincrvti's Darling, Patron of the Gown, Lover of Learning, and Apollo's Crown He was ; the Muses he began to nourish, Learn'd men and arts under his wings did flourish. But lest we should commit Idolatry, Heav'n took him from our sight, not Memory. London: Printed by /F. GodhUl iax Ilcnry Bronie at the Gun in h>y Lane, and Llenry Marsh at the I'rinccs Arms in Chancery-lane near Fleet-street, M.D.C.LX. As we handled the stiff old sheet with its black borders, and saw September 20, written in before the date in faded ink, we seemed to see the hand- some, jOentle, studious prince, borne out of the palace where the tragedy of his father's death was yet fresh in the minds of those who were rejoicing at the young king's restoration. We seemed to fol- low the sad procession down to the Abbey of West- minster, and watch him laid in the grave of his great-grandmother, beside his little sister Anna. And it saddened us to think of that gallant young lad cut off just when fortune smiled upon him after his lonely childhood, his stormy boyhood. But then we thought again of all he was saved from — 268 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. of the corruption and evil-doing of his brother Charles's abominable court — of the troubles and disgraces of James the Second's reign. And the little chapel where he lies was transformed into a safe haven of refuge from evils far worse than death. No monument is raised to his memory. But above his grave, Mary, Queen of Scots, with her proud beautiful face in scornful repose, lies under her splendid canopy, a fierce little Scotch lion crowned at her feet. And in the dim mysterious light that comes through the tiny diamond panes of the windows, we read words on her tomb that are indeed true of her great-grandson, Henry, Duke of Gloucester ; and as we leave him here at rest we too say : Bonse Memoriae Et spei ^teniae. CHAPTER XII. WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. FROM our childhood up we have all heard of " Good Queen Anne," When we were small tots in the nursery we sang little rhymes about Queen Anne, Queen Anne, she sat in the sun. I send you three letters, you don't read one. Then as we grew older we succumbed more or less to the rage for the eighteenth century which has laid hold on so large a section of English and Americans during the last few years. And we began to use Queen Anne's name in season and out of season — to talk glibly of Queen Anne architecture, Queen Anne furniture, and Queen Anne plate. The subject is doubtless an interest- ing one. And I for one am grateful to Queen 269 270 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Anne — or rather to the architects of her reign. Those stately red brick houses of her time, though they are far less graceful than Elizabethan man- sions, and less romantic than the French chateaux of the same period with their high roofs, and charming tourelles with extinguisher tops, are among the most comfortable, homelike, lovable dwelling-places we can find in England. The plate too of Queen Anne's reign is justly esteemed as the handsomest and richest that can be found. As I write a bit of veritable Queen Anne plate stands beside me on the table — a graceful little candlestick five inches high, of plain, solid silver. No need to look at its Hall-mark, or puzzle over its history ; for the only ornament on its foot is an open-work pattern formed of roughly cut letters, "Queen Anne. 1702" ; and on the rim above is engraved " His Highness Prince George. S.^ S. Anno Dom. 1702." The candlestick was a present from Queen Anne on her coronation, to a certain old ances- tress of ours, who had been one of the ladies in attendance on the Queen's young son, William WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 27 1 Henry, Duke of Gloucester — the only one of her numerous children who lived beyond his babyhood. This little boy, the last of our children of West- minster Abbey, was born on July 24, 1689. It was a memorable year in the history of England, for it had seen the great and bloodless revolution by which James the Second had been driven from Great Britain, and William the Third put on the throne. The misgovernment of James had become unbearable ; and William, Prince of Orange, who had married the king's eldest daughter Mary, was invited " by a small party of ardent Whigs to assist in preserving the civil and religious liberties of the nation." William and Mary accepted the Dec- laration of Right, and were crowned as joint sov- ereigns on April 11, 1689. They had no children. So when Princess Anne, the Queen's sister, and wife of Prince George of Denmark, gave birth to her little boy in the following July, he was wel- comed as the future King of England. King William and the King of Denmark were the baby's godfathers. The marchioness of Hali- fax was his godmother. Queen Mary adopted 272 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. him as her heir; and the king conferred upon him the title of Duke of Gloucester : but he was not created Duke "because his mother considered that title dreadfully unlucky." But at first it seemed highly improbable that the poor child would live long. He was delicate from his birth — very small — and for two months his death was constantly expected. The doctors advised an incessant change of nurses ; and the wretched baby, as was to be expected, grew weaker and weaker. At last, however, a fine- looking young Quakeress, a Mrs. Pack, with a month-old baby in her arms, came up from King- ston to tell the Princess Anne of a remedy which had done her children good. The Prince of Den- mark besought her to become wet-nurse to the suffering little prince ; and from that moment the unfortunate child began to thrive. Then came the question of the most healthy residence for the baby on whom so much de- pended. And Princess Anne at length chose Lord Craven's fine house at Kensington Gravelpits, which he offered to lend her for the little prince's WESTMINSTER ABBEY, LOOKING TOWARU THE ALTAR. From ctchhig by H. Tonssaint. WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 275 nursery. He went out every clay, no matter how cold it was, in a tiny carriage which the Duchess of Ormonde presented to him. The horses were in keeping with the size of the carriage ; for they were a pair of Shetland ponies " scarcely larger than good-sized mastiffs," and were guided by Dick Drury, the Prince of Denmark's coachman. The first two or three years of the little Duke of Gloucester's life were spent between Lord Cra- ven's house at Kensington, and London. For in those days Kensington was a country village, out in the woods and fields. West of Mayfair there were no houses until Kensington was reached on the breezy slopes of Camden Hill. South Kensing- ton, that vast quarter of handsome houses, has only come into existence in the last fifty years. The writer's grandfather was laughed at for going " out of town," when he and his old friend, Lord Essex, built themselves two of the first houses in Belgrave Square about 1830. And one of his sons- in-law, when a lad at Westminster School early in the century, remembers snipe-shooting in the marshes which separated Chelsea from London. 276 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. The Princess Anne and the queen were on ex- ceedingly bad terms, the chief reason of their disa- greement being Anne's passionate devotion to the famous Sarah Jennings, wife of the yet more famous Duke of Marlborough. The Marlbor- oughs, a clever, able, ambitious, unscrupulous pair, encouraged the jealousy between the sisters to secure their own ends, and at length formed a " Princess's party," which gave William the Third considerable trouble during his reign. The Queen insisted that Lady Marlborough, as she then was, should be dismissed from the Princess's service. Anne was equally determined to keep her beloved friend about her at all risks. This led to endless disputes and quarrels between the royal ladies ; and the little Duke of Gloucester became a fresh subject of contention. When she was in town, the Princess, who was a tender mother, passed much of her time in the nursery of her heir. . . . Whenever the Queen heard her sister was there she forebore to enter the room, but would send an inquiry or a message to her royal nephew — "a compliment," as it was called in the phraseology of the day. The set speech used to be delivered by the queen's WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 277 official in formal terms to the unconscious infant, as he sat on his nurse's knee ; and then the courtly messenger would depart, without taking the slightest notice of the Princess Anne, although she was in the room with her child. Some- times Queen Mary sent her nephew rattles or balls, or other toys, all which were chronicled in the Gazette with great sol- emnity ; but every attention to the little Gloucester was attended with some signal impertinence to his mother.* For two years the little boy throve well in the good air of Kensington, without any illness. But in the third year he was attacked by ague. Fifty years before he would probably have been bled and reduced in every way, and would speedily have died. But medical science was improving ; and a wonderful discovery had been made in far- ofif Peru. The ague was cured by Doctor Radcliffe and Sir Charles Scarborough, " who prescribed the Jesuit's Powder, of which the Duke took large quantities early in the spring of 1694, for the same complaint most manfully." t This Jesuit's Powder was none other than the • Strickland. " Lives of the Queens of England." Vol. VIL p. 237. t " Memoirs of Prince William Henry, Duke of Gloucester." Ry Jenkin Lewis, p. 7. 278 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. famous Peruvian Bark, made as we all know from the bark of the Chinchona trees, so-called by Linnaeus after the Countess of Chincon, wife of the Viceroy of Peru. This lady's cure in 1638 from a desperate fever, brought the quinine — the " bark-of-barks " as its Indian name signifies — into notice, and gave the world one of the most precious remedies we possess against disease. This ague was the first, but by no means the last illness our poor little boy had to endure ; for all through his short life he was delicate. His faithful attendant, Jenkin Lewis, a young man who was tenderly attached to him, has left us a most interesting memoir of the young prince. And from this we get charming details of his daily life, his many illnesses, and his character. When first he began to walk about and speak plain, he fancied he must be of all trades ; one day a carpenter, another day a smith, and so on ; which the queen observing sent him a box of ivory tools, said to cost twenty-five pounds, which he used till he learnt the names of them, and also the terms of those mechanical arts.* *" Memoirs of Prince William Henry, Duke of Gloucester." By Jenkin Lewis, p. 8. WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 279 But from his infancy the little duke began to show his passion for horses, drums, and anything to do with soldiers. In 1693, when he was only four years old, he threw away childish toys, saying he was a man and a soldier. And he had up from THE OLD DORMITORY AT WESTMINSTER SCHOOL. Kensington village a little company of twenty-two boys, wearing paper caps and armed with wooden swords, who enlisted themselves as his guard. The duke was enchanted ; and appointed a very pretty boy. Sir Thomas Lawrence's son, to be lieutenant. This little army was his constant delight. In a short time the child gained a real 28o THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. knowledge of military matters ; and before long he began to use his bodyguard to some purpose. In 1694, seeing how active he was, and that "his stiff-bodied coats were very troublesome to him in his military amusements," the Prince and Princess put him into breeches on Easter Day. His suit was a white camblet, with silver loops, and buttons of silver thread. He wore stiff stays under his waistcoat, which hurt him ; whereupon, Mr. Hughes, his taylor was sent for ; when he came the duke bade his boys (whom he stiled his Horse Guards) put the taylor on the wooden korse, which stood in the presence-room for the punishment of offenders, as is usual in martial law : who presently were for hoisting him on, if they had had strength enough.* It must have been an absurd scene. The little duke, not five years old, in his first pair of breeches, long waistcoat of white and silver, and coat with wide skirts and handsome, deep-cuffed sleeves — the bodygua/d of small rogues setting on their vic- tim — and the hapless tailor, who was so genuinely alarmed at these violent proceedings, that good- natured Jenkin had to beg him otf. * Memoirs. Jenkin Lewis, p. 8. WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 2S1 A year or two later we find the duke going down to Kensington Palace, where he ordered his boys — now two companies numbering ninety in all, armed with wooden swords and muskets, and in red grenadiers' caps — to exercise in the garden before the king and queen. The king was de- lighted ; and gave the young soldiers twenty guin- eas, besides two gold pieces which he presented to one of them, William Gardner, who beat the drum " equal to the ablest drummer." The next day, Sunday, the king sent word he was coming to visit his nephew. This was a great occasion, as the king very seldom came to see him. The duke prepared a pasteboard fortification, and got his four little brass cannon ready ; and when the king arrived the boy was so engrossed in shewing him that he could salute him like a soldier and afterwards " compliment him," that he could not be persuaded to thank His Majesty first for coming. He fired his cannon, and he then talked to the king of horses and arms, and thanked him of his own accord for the honor he did him in coming to see him. lie told the king that one of his cannon was 282 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. broke ; the king promised to send him some cannon, but never did ; the duke thanked him and complimented him in these words — " My dear king, you shall have both my com- panies with you to Flanders," where the king was to go soon after.* All his talk was of wars, soldiers, and fortifica- tions. He was scarce seven years old when he understood the terms of fortification and navigation, knew all the different parts of a strong place, and a ship of war, and could mar- shall a company of boys, who had voluntarily listed them- selves to attend him He had a particular aversion to dancing and all womanish exercises, his whole delight being in martial sports and hunting.! Even when he was ill in bed he insisted on hav- ing his cannon drawn up in his sight, and made his servant stand sentinel at his door as in a fortress. The faithful Jenkin told him stories of Alexander and Caesar, and on the sly studied the art of for- tification, in order to teach the young duke more about it. But this was discovered by Lady Fitz * Memoir. Jenkin Lewis, p. 16. t " Impartial History of Queen Anne's Reign." Bishop White Kennett. P- ^Q. WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 283 Hardinge, who was the queen's spy in Princess Anne's household. Jenkin Lewis was threatened with instant dismissal if he ventured again to in- struct the boy in matters with which he had no con- cern ; and he was obliged regretfully to put away his fortification books. But he found a more allow- able diversion in putting some of the young duke's words of command into verse, and had them set to music by Mr. John Church, " one of the gentle- men of Westminster Abbey, who had studied Mr, Henry Purcel's works and imitated his manner." It was not very grand poetry, but the little soldier was delighted. It begins — Hark ! hark ! the hostile drum alarms ; Let ours now beat and call to arms I In 1696, after the discovery of the Rye House Plot, loyal addresses were offered to the king by both Houses of Parliament, and an association was formed to preserve King William or avenge his death, which was very generally signed throughout the kingdom. The Duke of Gloucester and his boys were eager to follow the public example. 284 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. The duke composed an address which one of his boys wrote down as follows : I, your Majesty's most dutiful subject, had rather lose my life in your Majesty's cause, than in any man's else ; and I hope it will not be long 'ere you conquer France. (Sig)ied) Gloster. He also dictated one for his boys and his house- hold to sign, which was much to the point, and ran thus : We, your Majesty's dutiful subjects, will stand by you as long as we have a drop of blood. The prince and his boys were closely associated in all their pursuits and interests. Not only did they study the art of war, but they were catechised together by Mr. Prat, the duke's first tutor. The child had been carefully instructed in religion from his infancy. " He had early suck'd in his mother's piety," says one writer, " and was always attentive to prayers." One day in the catechising, Mr. Prat asked him before his boys, " How can you, being born a prince, keep yourself from the pomps and vanities of this world > " And the lit- WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 285 tie fellow made the simple and straightforward an- swer, " I will keep God's commandments, and do all I can to walk in his ways." He was a pretty boy. Something like his royal DINING HALL, WESTMINSTER SCHOOL. mother in her younger days ; for she is described as a "sylph-like creature" when a girl, though she afterwards grew to be the mountain of fat we know in most of her portraits. His face was oval ; and for the most part glowed with a fine colour. His shape was fine, his body easy, and his arms finely hung." * * Jenkin Lewis. 286 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY, His disposition was naturally a sweet one ; and he was admirably loyal to his friends and attend- ants, always willing to take blame himself rather than allow another to be scolded. But his weak health, a strong will, and a hot temper made him liable to fits of passion in which he lost all control over himself. Jenkin Lewis describes some of these outbursts of fury, and one in particular when he was the object of the prince's wrath. Jenkin quietly turned him round to the looking-glass, so that the boy might see what a shocking spectacle he was making of himself. Whereupon his passion fell as quickly as it had risen. He grew calm upon seeing himself, and expressed his sorrow. When he was nine years old, the king appointed Bishop Burnet to be his preceptor, and the Duke of Marlborough to be his governor. The Bishop writes two years later, that he had made " amazing progress." They had read to- gether the Psalms, Proverbs and Gospels, and the bishop had explained things that fell in his way " very copiously, and was often surprised at the Questions he put me, and the reflections that he WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 287 made. He came to understand things relating to religion beyond imagination." * Besides religion the good bishop seems to have crammed his pupil's liead with a mass of knowledge — geography, forms of government in every country, the interests and trades of every nation, the history " of all the great revolutions that had been in the world ; " and he explained " the Gothic constitution and the bene- ficiary and feudal laws." No wonder that as one historian says, "his tender constitution bended under the weight of his manly soul, and was too much harass'd by the vivacity of his genius, to be of long duration In a word, he was too forward to arrive at maturity." f On July 24, 1700, the Duke of Gloucester was eleven years old. The next day Bishop Burnet tells that he complained a little : but every one thought he was tired with his birthday festivities. The day after he grew rapidly worse. A malignant fever declared itself, and he " died on the fourth day of his illness, to the great grief of all who were con- * Memoir. Jenkin Lewis p 100. t Bishop Wliite Kennet. " Impartial History of Queen Anne's Reign." P 39- 200 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. cerned with him." He was buried quite quietly, in the same vault as his great-uncle Henry, Duke of Gloucester, beside their common ancestress, Mary, Queen of Scots. The death of this little bov was an event of enor- mous importance to England. The Stuart line was at an end, and the eyes of England now turned to George Lewis, the Elector of Hanover, grandson of that unfortunate Queen of Bohemia, who we know best as Princess Elizabeth, the favorite sister and playfellow of Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales. And with the death of " the last hope of the race — thus withered, as it must have seemed, by the doom of Providence " * — our history of the children of Westminster draws to a close. Besides those whose lives and stories we have studied together, there are several of whom little is known but the facts of their death and burial in our stately Abbey.' The year before little William, Duke of Gloucester, was born, two "holy innocents" were laid to rest at Westminster; one, Nicholas Bagnall, an " infant of two months old, by his nurse unfortunately over- *" Memorials of Westminster Abbey." Dean Stanley, p. igS. WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, 2I laid," is commemorated by a white marble urn in the Chapel of St. Nicholas, among the Percys and the Cecils. And in the Cloisters there is a touch- ingly simple tablet which Dean Stanley delighted to point out to every one, bearing these words: " Jane Lister, dear child, died October 7, 1688." In 17 1 1, three years before Queen Anne's death, a young Westminster Scholar, Carteret by name, aged nine- teen, was buried in the North Aisle of a wkstmtnster boy. the Choir, "with the chiefs of his house." This is, I think, the only instance of a Westminster boy being buried in the Abbey. And young Carteret, the Westminster Scholar, leads me to an institution ago THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. at Westminster which I have too long neglected. I mean Westminster School. ' From the earliest days of the Abbey, from Edith and Edward the Confessor's time, a school for the training of the novices was attached to Westminster as to other great monasteries. When the consti- tution of the Abbey was changed by the dissolution of the monasteries in 1539-40, Henry the Eighth founded a school in connection with the reformed Abbey. But the school vv'as refounded and enlarged by Queen Elizabeth in the year of the Armada, and to her we owe its prosperity and fame. The great tables of chestnut wood in the black-beamed College Dining Hall, are said by tradition to have been given by the queen from the wrecks of the Spanish Armada. From this time forth West- minster School took its place among the most famous public schools in England. The names of many of the greatest of England's worthies are inscribed on the walls of the old schoolroom. In Elizabeth's reign the famous Camden was its head master. And a few years later we find young George Her- bert beinsr commended to the Dean for Westminster WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 29 1 School, where " the beauties of his pretty behavior and wit shined and became so eminent and lovely in this his tender age, that he seemed marked out for piety and to have the care of heaven, and of a particular good angel to guard and guide him." * Westminster School was always loyal, and dur- ing the Protectorate the boys were ardent partisans of the king, whose scholars they said they were and would always remain. " It will never be well with the nation until Westminster School is sup- pressed," said the Puritan Dean of Christ Church, John Owen. However, the " King's School " remained vehe- mently loyal in spite of all the efforts of the Pres- byterian and Independent preachers in the Abbey; and it was not suppressed. In Queen Anne's reigfi the School buildings took their present form. The old Dormitory, which had been in the Middle Ages the Granary of the Convent, stood on the west side of Dean's Yard. The wear-and-tcar of four centuries, which included the rough usage of man}- generations of schoolboys, liad ren- ♦ Walton's Life. Vol. II. p. 24. 292 THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. dered this venerable building quite unfit for its purposes. The gaping roof and broken windows, which freely admitted the rain and snow, wind and sun ; the beams, cracked and hung with cobwebs; the cavernous walls, with many a gash inflicted by youthful Dukes and Earls in their boyish davs , the chairs, scorched by many a fire, and engraven deep with many a famous name — provoked alternately the affection and derision of Westminster students."* So the Dormitory was doomed, and was re-built by Lord Burlington after designs by Sir Christopher Wren, in the College Garden — a lovely space of cool. green beyond the Little Cloisters — \/here it stands to this day. The school of Westminster has been always intimately connected with the Abbey Church, since the days when the abbot sat on one side of the Great Cloisters with his m^nks, and the master of the novices on the other with his disciples. And quaint customs still survive from early days in which the Chapter and the Scholars take part more or less. Across the Great School runs the famous Bar, * " Memorials of Westminster Abbey. Dean Stanley." p. 536 WILLIAM HENRV, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 293 over which it is the duty of the college cook to toss a pancake on Shrove Tuesday " to be scrambled for by the boys and presented to the Dean." Once a year the Dean and Chapter " receive in the Hall the former Westminster Scholars, and hear the recitation of the Epigrams, which have contributed for so many years their lively comments on the events of each passing generation," * a relic of the old custom by which the Dean and Prebendaries dined in the College Hall — the ancient Refectory — with all the School. Every Sunday and Saint's day during the school year, the Westminster Schol- ars troop into tlic Choir in their white surplice.; in front of the Abbey body, and take the seats which have been theirs b}- right since the coronation of James the Second. And in modern davs their shouts from those seats have testified the assent of the people of England to the sovereign's election in the Coronation Service. And now from the shouts of the young, vigorous, active boys of Westminster, let us turn once more to the Abbey. In its still dim aisles, under the * " Memorials of Westminster Abbey." Dean Stanley, n. a?:. 294 fHE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. vaulted, misty roof, let us bid a tender and loving farewell to its children — the Holy Innocents who have "gone before " — whose sweet memories live in the minds of men ; whose souls are safe in God's good keeping ; and whose ashes rest in England's Pantheon. GLOSSARY. Aisle, the lateral divisions of a church, on each side of the nave. From Aile — a wing. p. 99. Almonry, a room where alms were distributed. In Abbeys generally a stone building near the church, p. 99. Ambulatory, a place to walk in. At Westminster the passage round the outside of the Chapel of St. Edward, p. 26.^ Arcade, a series of arches, supported by columns, either open or closed with masonry. Frequently used for the dec- oration of the walls of churches, on the e.xterior and interior. Baptistery, the part of a church containing the font. P- 3.3- Boss, an ornament placed at the intersection of the ribs in vaulted roofs, p. 106. Breviary, the book containing the daily service of the Roman C"atholic Church, p. 128. Buttress, a projection from a wall to give extra strength and support. The flying buttress, or Arc-boutant is carried across by an arch from one wall to another, p. 13. Chalice, the cup used at the celebration of the Eucharist, p. 28. Chantry, a sepulchral chapel, in which masses for the dead were chanted, p. 24. Choir, the chancel of collegiate or cathedral churches. P- S-- Clerestory, ( ola spelling clear-story ) the upper story or row of windows in a Gothic Church, p. 15. Cloisters, covered galleries of communication between the different parts of a monastic building or college. They generally have roofs of groined stone. At Westminster they 11 GLOSSARY. run round the two quadrangles of the Great and Little Cloisters, and join them together by long stone passages. P- 33- Crocket, detached flowers or bunches of foliage, used to decorate the angles of spires, pinnacles and gables, p. 115. Gable, the upright triangular piece of masonry or wood- work at the end of a roof. Gargoyle, a projecting stone water-spout in the shape of some monster, or the figure of a man from whose mouth the water runs. p. 13. Gothic Architecture is chiefly distinguished by the pointed arch. It is divided into three periods. The Early English, which prevailed during the thirteenth century. The Decorated style, which prevailed during the fourteenth century. And the Perpendicular, or style of the fifteenth century. In France the latest Gothic style is called Flam- boyant, p. 1 1 5. MuUions, upright bars of stone between the lights of a window. Nave, the jjrincipal or central division of a Gothic Church, extending from the west end to the entrance of the Choir, p. 64. Oriel, a window ]5rojecting from the face of the wall, frctjuently resting on brackets. Pendant, a sculptured ornament hanging from a Gothic roof. In the latest or Perpendicular style the pendants are sculptured in the most delicate manner and form the Key- stones of the roof, taking the place of the bosses, p. 106. Pier- Arches, arches supported on piers (or pillars) ■between the centre and side aisles, ji. no. Pyx, a gold or silver circular vessel in which the Eucha- ristic wafer was reserved before the Reformation for com- municating the sick. The term is also u.sed sometimes, for a casket in which relics are kept; or for boxes in which deeds are ])reservcd. ]). 22. GLOSSARY. Ill ReredOS, the screen at the back of the Altar, p. 15. Rood, the Holy Rood, or Crucifix. A cross with the fig- ure of our Saviour upon it. p. 52. Rose- Window, a circular window, called also a Cath- erine-wheel, or a Marigold window, p. 13. Sacrarium, the part of a temple where the sacred things were deposited. At Westminster, the wide space within the Altar rails, p. 15. String-course, a projecting line of mouldings running horizontally along the face of a building, frequently under the windows, p. 1 15. Transept, the division of a church running north and south, forming the arms of a cross, p. 32. Triforium, a range of small arches or panels between the top of the ]ner-arches and the bottom of the clerestory windows, usually opening into a passage above the side aisles, p. 15. Troco, an old game played with large wooden balls which were pushed through a ring set up in the turf, by poles with a little iron cup at the end. Tudor or Perpendicular style. In the windows the mul- lions are continued through the head of the window. 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