Mrs. Arabin commenced this evening's entertainment, and described as follows: "A young lady, with an intellectual countenance, seated in the midst of books, some of which appear to be written in Greek characters. She is evidently weeping bitterly, and two men dressed in black are apparently talking to her, and showing her some papers."
"Was she beautiful?" asked Emily.
"Yes."
"Mary, Queen of Scots?" guessed one.
"No."
"Catherine of Aragon?"
"No."
A pause ensued; at last Mrs. Arabin was asked to give them some little clue to the history.
"She was famed for her learning; indeed, so much so as to be styled by historians, the wonder the age."
"She and her husband were shortly afterwards beheaded, were they not?" demanded Edward.
"Quite right," was the reply.
Mrs. Macdonald then began: "On a large open space, surrounded by ancient buildings, is assembled a large crowd of persons, some of whom appear to be preparing wood for burning around two stakes, placed at some distance from each other. Near the one stands a very aged, white-haired man with a Bible in his hand; he who stands near the other pile is younger in appearance, but they both wear an expression of calmness and resignation; indeed there is almost a look of joy in the elder man's countenance. A person dressed in black has ascended some elevated position to preach to them, and the younger victim is paying evident attention to his discourse."
"Was Archbishop Cranmer one of the sufferers, mama?" asked one little voice.
"No."
"Hooper or Ridley?" suggested Edward.
"No; after their death."
"Then I think I know who they were," said Annie; "but did only bishops suffer?"
"No, my dear; besides five bishops, there were twenty-one clergymen, eight lay gentlemen, eighty-four tradesmen, a hundred husbandmen, fifty-five women, and four children."
"Had four children the courage to go through such pains for their religion?"
"Yes, my love, but not in their own strength; their weak bodies and minds would have flinched, had they not been strengthened from above. We could all of us go through much more than we think ourselves capable of, if we did but seek for help from God; and if we try to go on alone, without looking to Him, no wonder that we fail."
Edward next began. "My picture represents a very, very small room, almost a closet; its one window faces the door. Here a very beautiful woman is sitting at supper with a foreign-looking man and some of her attendant ladies, and a guitar lies near them. The principal lady looks much agitated, for some figures have cautiously advanced to the back of her favorite, and, with daggers in their hands, are trying to pull him from his seat."
Edward's description was soon guessed by even the younger children, who were well pleased at having an opportunity of shewing their learning.
Annie's turn came next, and she told of "a sea-engagement. Numerous and large ships seem to be taking shelter in a port, the white cliffs near which correspond with those of our own shore at Dover. The vessels, smaller in number and size, appear to have the best of the day; much explosion is going on amongst the enemy's fleet, whilst some small ships bearing the English colors, have penetrated quite into the midst of their opponents."
"I wish your sailors would talk, Annie," said Willie; "for if I knew what language they spoke, I might tell what naval engagement you mean. Was it the battle of Trafalgar?"
"No; that took place in the open sea."
"The battle of the Nile?" asked Mary.
"Much earlier than that, Mary."
"All battles are alike," said Willie.
"All battles are not fought under the shelter of chalk cliffs."
"Did you not say that those who were attacked by the English were thus screening themselves?"
"I did."
"Then it could not be Dover or Deal. Oh! they must have been Frenchmen," continued Willie.
"Not Frenchmen," said Edward, seeing the others puzzled, "but the natives of a country very close by."
Louisa then described a scene where "a platform, covered with black, is surrounded by armed men, and a crowd of the populace. A man of noble appearance has his throat bared, his head laid on the block, and the executioner stands ready to strike the fatal stroke; when his hand is arrested by some one near, who points to a royal messenger riding at full speed through the mob."
A long pause ensued after Louisa had finished; even the two mamas looked puzzled.
"You may ask three questions and no more," said Louisa, triumphantly.
"Was the victim a king?" enquired Mary.
"Hush, Mary," cried Emily, as she saw the ardent little girl about to open her mouth again.
"Had he a friend who was also reprieved at the same late hour?" asked Mrs. Macdonald.
"You have guessed it, aunt, I see," replied Louisa.
"Not quite; at least I am not sure."
"Pray let me have the next question," interrupted Mrs. Arabin; "for although I remember the accounts of many executions, I do not recollect the circumstance of two friends being pardoned when the fatal axe was hanging over them. I am half afraid of wasting my question, therefore I must be cautious."
The children clapped their hands when they saw their aunt puzzled, and, as a great favor, Mrs. Arabin was allowed a fourth question, if she would but be quick in saying something; to which Alfred cordially added, "Please do, dear auntie."
"You are rather impatient, my dears, and I am sorry I cannot give you a lesson in patience; but I neither need your third or your fourth answers, as I have discovered your history to have taken place in the reign of James the First."
Much disappointment was expressed when auntie was pronounced "too clever."
"My picture to-night," said Emily, "tells of a scheme very dreadful in its motives as well as gloomy in its preparations for fulfilment; a vaulted roof is scarcely to be distinguished through the dark shades. A figure is walking through these gloomy passages, evidently seeking something; opposite him is a figure with a dark lantern in his hand, enveloped in a cloak."
"Gunpowder treason and plot should never be forgot," exclaimed Alfred; following his ejaculation with a loud "Hurrah!"
Papa's knock at the door interrupted the historical game for this evening, but mama promised to have them again on Monday evening during the dark hour; a season now as much looked forward to, as it was formerly dreaded.
1. Lady Jane Grey's accession announced to her. A.D. 1553.
2. Death of Latimer and Ridley. A.D. 1555.
3. Death of Rizzio. A.D. 1563.
4. Defeat of the "Spanish Armada." A.D. 1588.
5. Lord Cobham led to execution. A.D. 1602.
6. Gunpowder Plot. November 5th, 1605.
The next evening the children were agreeably surprised to hear their father knock at the door, just as they had arranged themselves ready for their favorite game. He was soon up stairs, and was warmly thanked for having returned so soon.
"I have," said he, "suffered much from headache this evening, and I thought this cheerful group might do me more good than anything."
"We must tell soft stories," said Alfred; "and as papa likes to hear you speak, mama, you had better begin."
The little boy's motive was so thoughtful, that Mrs. Macdonald agreed; and called their attention to three persons, whom she represented standing in a doorway. The foremost appeared to have turned to speak to the friend who followed him; their deportment showed perfect ease and ignorance of the danger near them. The third in the group is a man of a melancholy but enthusiastic countenance: his arm is stretched over the figure next to him, and he has plunged a dagger into the breast of his companion.
"This is a very dreadful story, mama. Was the wound fatal?"
"Yes. It was a duke who was the victim. The whole was so instantaneous, that no one saw the blow. He pulled the knife from the wound, exclaiming, 'The villain has killed me;' and fell dead at Sir Thomas Fryer's feet."
"That name ought to help us, aunt," said Edward. "I fear we are all very stupid; uncle, can you guess?"
"I think your aunt has described the death of a court favorite, in the time of Charles I."
"If you have, mama," said Mary, "the murderer's name was Felton; was it not?"
"Yes, my dear, you are quite right; now, perhaps, you can entertain us."
"My history," answered Mary, "relates to a very affecting scene. A family group meets for the last time on earth. A father, with deep grief depicted on his regular, handsome, although care-worn features, has a little boy about seven years old on his knee: he seems anxious to impress something of importance on the child's mind, who is listening to his father with his eyes fixed on him. An interesting little girl stands by his side, crying bitterly."
"I think," said Mrs. Macdonald, "if we help him a little, Alfred might name this subject. When we first began this game, he was very anxious to know more of this poor king, who was in prison; since then you have passed on to other reigns, but this incident you cannot forget."
"I will tell you," answered the little boy. "The poor dear little duke of Gloucester said, when his father told him not to be made king when he was dead, 'I will be torn in pieces first.'"
"You have answered quickly, dear child; and I am glad you remember so much."
Alfred was quite delighted, and begged that they would talk a long time about this king, and all that happened to him; and when he was reminded that this would not be agreeable to the rest of the party, he seemed a little disappointed. Mr. Macdonald noticing it, told him, as he had not urged his entreaties, he would reward him by telling him a story that would please him very much.
Cromwell and the Monkey.Cromwell and the Monkey.
The little boy was instantly on his father's knee, who began to relate the following fact:—
"A large monkey is seen dancing about on the roof of a house with a baby in his arms. From the child's dress, he has evidently taken the infant from its cradle; the family seem greatly alarmed, and are spreading feather beds, carpets, and everything that is soft enough to break the violence of the child's fall. The animal shews no inclination to descend, and dances about with great glee."
"Oh, papa, did the poor child fall?"
"No; the monkey, which was quite tame, and a household favourite, carried it carefully down the same way he went up."
"You have indeed told me a funny story," said Alfred; "please some one make haste, and guess who it was."
"I think," said Mrs. Arabin, "that the baby became a very important person, and was one of the instruments of Charles's later troubles."
"Your aunt has told you," said Mr. Macdonald; "and I am now expecting a story from Edward."
"I have remembered a painful one, for the scene is a death-bed. A young and very beautiful woman is mustering her last strength, and making a final effort to impress some words on a man who leans over her. His countenance expresses deep affection and distress; the invalid is very dear to him, or he would not so patiently listen to arguments, which formerly even from her lips would have exasperated him; a family likeness may be traced between the two."
"Is it the death of a queen?"
"No, neither are royal, although the man rules the kingdom. After the circumstance I have just described, he never regained his cheerfulness."
"I think your hero was the baby whom the monkey danced on the roof of the house; and the lady was his youngest and favourite daughter."
"You are quite right, Louisa; and perhaps you can now take your turn as relator."
"I will speak first," said Mr. Macdonald; "I can so seldom join you, that I must take double share. You seem more inclined to show mercy towards me than last time I played with you, therefore you shall be rewarded. My picture is a very awful one: the whole of London is visited by a calamity; in every street, in every house, lie the dead and the dying. Grief is so settled in the hearts of all, that there are few to attend the last breath of those who still linger on earth; in one of the public thoroughfares some poor wretches have crawled out to listen to a man, who braves infection, and preaches to his miserable fellow-creatures. Dead bodies are carried by, and fear and misery hangs over all."
"Oh, papa!" cried the children, "we know what you mean; please do not relate any more, it is so very dreadful."
"It was indeed an awful visitation, my dears; but although we are not permitted to see why it was sent, we must not doubt the wisdom that ordained the trial. The following year was, you may remember, marked by another horrible dispensation; but this we are allowed to see was, in one respect, a blessing, for it entirely stopped the disease which killed hundreds at the time I have just mentioned. Louisa, I will no longer prevent your story being heard; it will, I trust, be less dismal than mine."
"I will endeavour to make it so," she replied. "You must fancy you see the coast of Dorsetshire, a place called Lyme. A man of prepossessing appearance has just landed; it is summer, and the sun shining on his face animates him with hope. He has only a hundred followers to fight in his behalf; he seems to be a great favourite with them; and in the distance may be seen small bodies of men advancing, it may be supposed, to join his cause."
"Was it Bolingbroke?"
"No: he landed at Ravensburgh, in Yorkshire."
"Did your hero aim at conquering England?"
"He pretended he was heir to the crown."
"Then I think if you will tell me whether he marched straight to London, or stayed to subdue the towns he passed through, I can say who it was."
"He chose the latter, and thus lost all chance of success; had he gone direct to the metropolis, he might have been victorious."
"The king, whom he wished to supplant," said Willie, "was, I think, dethroned not long afterwards, and succeeded by some one else, better able to conduct the affairs of England."
The subject was now known to all, and the game deferred until the next night.
"We have only two more evenings," remarked Emily, "before my aunt and cousins go, and we have agreed we cannot play at it without them."
"I hope," answered her mother, "they will soon pay us another visit, and we can then resume it, with, I trust, a better acquaintance with past events."
1. Death of Buckingham. A.D. 1628.
2. Charles I. taking leave of his children. A.D. 1649.
3. Oliver Cromwell seized by a tame monkey. A.D. 1593.
4. The death of Mrs. Claypole.
5. Solomon Eagle preaching during the Plague. A.D. 1665.
6. Landing of the Duke of Monmouth. A.D. 1685.
William asked leave to commence the historical entertainment this evening, and the whole party begged for something very amusing, as the cold snow without, gave a cheerless look to all within, and poor Alfred complained of chilblains.
"I am going to describe a battle," said Willie; "the two contending armies are drawn up on opposite sides of a river; the surrounding scene bears marks of great poverty, nevertheless the inhabitants are a fine, generous-looking people. The principal figure in the group is standing on the bank, taking a survey of the enemy; he is of the middle height, with a high forehead, aquiline nose, fine eyes, and a very grave countenance. His thin form would give an idea of feebleness, were it not for the energy of the mind within. Two persons are lying dead by his side, and he himself appears to be wounded in the shoulder, but with the greatest composure is continuing to give his orders."
"That was a hero," said Edward; "I like to hear of mind overcoming bodily pain. Was it Edward III.?"
"No."
"The Duke of Marlborough?"
"You are getting nearer the time."
"Prince Eugene," said another.
"Prince Eugene was a cotemporary of the Duke of Marlborough."
"The person you mention was associated with some one else in the government of England, was he not?" said Edward.
"Yes, my dear boy."
"Was he not very much attached to his wife?"
"Yes; and all historians agree in giving her an amiable character, and in describing her person as pleasing."
"Did not William III. give Greenwich Hospital to disabled seamen?" asked Willie.
"Yes, my dear; it was formerly a royal palace. Queen Elizabeth was nursed there when a child. You young ladies can, perhaps, tell me what Queen Mary introduced into England."
"You must give us a clue, mama."
"It is something which tended to make women more industrious; but the revival of it in the present day, has, I fear, caused a great deal of time to be employed on it which might have been devoted to more useful objects."
"We know what you mean, mama; tent-stitch and cross-stitch; your last remark has told us."
Louisa then described a bed-chamber: "a high four-post bedstead, the canopy of which reaches to the ceiling: a coronet, surmounted by a plume of feathers, is raised over the crimson curtains at the foot: it is a bright and beautiful summer morning, but a pale, restless invalid seems incapable of enjoying it. She is wrapt in a loose robe, and stands with her eyes fixed on a large clock, which now-a-days we should, from its antique, cumbersome form, condemn to a staircase, or a kitchen; there is almost a vacant expression in her eyes, and an attendant lady looks enquiringly in her face. Who is my poor heroine?"
"Catherine of Aragon?" asked Emily.
"No, she was but a queen consort; my heroine was a queen regnant."
"Was it bloody Mary, who had the poor little children burnt?" said Alfred.
"No, my boy; but a similar circumstance, namely, that of leaving no descendants, preyed equally on the minds of these two royal personages, and hastened their deaths."
"I know," cried Willie; "but, dear mama, will you tell us what is the difference between a queen consort and a queen regnant?"
"A queen consort is the wife of a king; a queen regnant is one who reigns in her own right; a queen dowager is the widow of a king."
"Thank you, mama," said Willie; "now another story, if you please."
"You really give me no time to collect my thoughts; but it is a long while since your aunt has described a picture, and I think it is now her turn."
Mrs. Arabin then began:—"My scene is laid, where many of our scenes have been laid before, within the cold walls of a prison; but a strange circumstance is there taking place, very different to any you have yet depicted. A great interchange of clothing seems to be taking place. Three figures occupy the apartment; one lady is attiring herself in a riding dress, whilst another is assisting a dark man to put on a lady's costume; much anxiety is pourtrayed in the face of the latter lady, and none of them seem to think it as good a joke as Alfred does, to judge by his smiling face; the lady who is disrobing has a fair complexion and yellow hair."
"I suppose the gentleman intended to pass for the lady whose clothes he assumed," said Edward; "but how did they contrive to hide his dark hair?"
"By putting on a woman's wig of yellow hair, painting his eye-brows the same colour, and adding white and red paint to his cheeks."
"Your hero stands confessed, aunt," said Annie; "but what a courageous woman his wife must have been."
"True, my dear; but you must remember that the life of the dearest being she had on earth was at stake; and surely she would rather have died with him, than have left untried any plan which might offer a possibility of saving him, however dangerous it might be to herself."
"I am glad we do not live in such times now," said Louisa.
"You have reason to be so," replied Mrs. Arabin, "and we ought all to be deeply grateful for it; but I fear we take our blessings too much as matters of course; we seem to view them as our right, and only learn to appreciate them when justly deprived of them, or when we hear of the sufferings of others."
"Well, mama," added Edward, "if no other good arise from our perusal of history than that of making us more grateful for the blessings of peace and quiet times, we shall not have studied in vain."
"Edward, you do speak so like a book," exclaimed Willie, half impatient at this digression.
"Like a good book, however," answered Mrs. Macdonald; "for what your cousin has said is quite true. But, Emily, you have been silent a long time: let us now have a picture from you."
Emily complied. "The scene of my picture appears to be onboard a man-of-war. The numerous masts of other vessels near seem to indicate a harbour. An elderly man, dressed in an admiral's uniform, is kneeling down; some one stands behind him binding a handkerchief over his eyes; those immediately around appear to be his friends, judging by the sorrow depicted on their countenances. The admiral is in the act of raising his hand, as a signal to some soldiers arranged at the further end of the deck, and who have their muskets pointed at him."
All were puzzled by Emily's narration; and finding none of the children able to guess, Mrs. Arabin ventured to solve the mystery.
"I never clearly understood the exact cause of the Admiral's punishment, mama," said Willie; "will you explain it to me?"
"I will, my dear, as well as I can; but I think papa would be able to tell you better. During the war between France and England, in the reign of George II., Admiral Byng was sent out with ten ships of war to relieve Minorca, taking with him orders to throw a body of troops into the garrison. This he thought was venturing too much; and being surprised by the appearance of a French fleet, he gave orders to form in line of battle, and act on the defensive, instead of obeying the commands he had brought out. A part of the English fleet engaged, but the admiral still kept in the background. The French slowly sailed away, and no other opportunity offered of their coming to a closer engagement. But six o'clock strikes; therefore go, my darlings, and do not keep nurse waiting."
1. Battle of the Boyne. A.D. 1690.
2. Death of Queen Anne. A.D. 1714.
3. Escape of Lord Nithsdale. A.D. 1715.
4. Execution of Admiral Byng. A.D. 1758.
The children remembered, with much regret, that this was the last evening they could enjoy their historical game; the idea that their aunt and cousins would not be there to assist them, made it impossible for them to continue it after their departure. Alfred had been wishing in vain that an earthquake, thunder-storm, or some impossible catastrophe, would take place, to prevent their leaving them. The following evening the rest of the party, although more reasonable in their desires, sincerely wished they might be detained; and they seated themselves round their mothers with long and dismal faces. Alfred was of opinion that the game had better not be attempted, and then the last time would have been over the preceding evening without their knowing it; but this did not suit some of the others, who thought it was the only amusement that could make the time pass pleasantly. Mrs. Macdonald promised to do her best to enliven them, reminding them how useless, and ungrateful for past enjoyment in each other's society it would be to repine, now it was over; had they known their mother's private feelings, they would have found that she also suffered from the idea of losing her sister, even for a short time. The children promised to be as cheerful as the circumstances would allow, and their kind mother consented to tell the first story:—
"You have all heard of the House of Peers; and I shall now describe this important body collected on an interesting occasion. A speaker has been supported into the house, who appears to have risen from a bed of sickness; for the time he has regained strength, and is giving utterance to a powerful speech with the greatest animation."
"You have not," said the children, "given us much detail, mama."
"I will add, then, that this eloquent orator spoke of America and her affairs."
"And I think," said Mrs. Arabin, "that before he left the meeting, he was seized with a fit, and carried out lifeless."
"Then, aunt," replied Willie, "you have mentioned a public character to whom Pitt was related, and to whom he succeeded, as one of the king's chief ministers."
"I am glad you are not too unhappy to guess so well; perhaps you can now describe a picture."
"That I will, dear aunt; and it shall shew you the death of a brave man. He is commanding a large fleet, and fights against an enemy with the most determined courage. At the moment I have selected, he has received his death-blow, and has hastily covered the stars and different orders on his breast with his handkerchief; fearing the sailors might be appalled if they knew their commander had fallen. A friend stands by, and holds out his arm to support him."
"You so often give us battles," said Alfred; "and they all seem so much alike."
"What was this gallant seaman in appearance?" asked Mary.
"He was a pale, emaciated looking man, and had lost an arm."
"You have told us now, Willie; and I think mama is ready to speak next."
"If you like, my dears, I will do so; and shall give you an account of a royal levee. It did not take place in London, although it was held by an English king, and he was surrounded by his own people. The place in which the scene is laid is an old palace, and is a most interesting building, although there is nothing grand in its appearance. The old walls in every part of the edifice seem to have been beautified for the reception of the present tenant. The hardy forms and strongly marked features of the assembled crowd, soften into an expression of the deepest satisfaction as they welcome their sovereign; and his gracious manner and friendly attentions, shew that he is much gratified by his greeting."
It was a long time before the children could give a satisfactory answer, and they begged their mother to describe the person of her hero.
"He was remarkably handsome; and I remember my mother describing him the first time she ever saw him, when he was quite a young man."
"Stop, mama; if grandmama saw him, we know who it must be."
Mary next asked leave to speak; and, after a few whispers to her mama, she related the particulars of a dreadful fire. "The buildings destroyed were some of the oldest senate-houses in the world; they stood on the banks of a wide river, and the glare in the water was terrific. Crowds collected, and great anxiety was shewn to prevent the flames from spreading. A beautiful, sacred pile was so close, that for some time it was feared this would share the same fate; but happily, the prompt means to conquer the furious element saved this, and even houses still nearer. The accident took place at night."
"You have described it with as much animation, Mary, as if you had been present."
Their sister laughed, and seemed much entertained with all their mistakes. Mrs. Arabin told them that she had had the whole explained to her by their father, who had been an eye-witness.
"Oh, aunt, we can now guess," cried the elders of the party. "How clever of Mary to tell us of what took place during our own lives, and yet contrive that we should not know what she meant."
"You were all so young," said Mrs. Macdonald, "that you could not very well understand what passed, or what was talked about. We have only time for one more anecdote, and I shall relate it. I have described the coronation of a king for you before; I now wish to represent that of a young and graceful queen. She has just been crowned, and sits with royal dignity on the throne to receive the homage of the peers. They approach one by one to claim her gracious reception. An aged lord is of the number; and as he totters forward, he stumbles on the steps of her seat. The royal lady instantly lays aside the formality of a queen, and with the natural kindness of her disposition, rises and holds out her hand to assist him."
"How pleased all the people must have been, mama," said Alfred.
"Yes; they felt that they had one to rule them, who is well worthy the love that I hope we all bear her."
"Indeed, mama, we cannot think what you mean; we do not know who the queen was."
"You will, I trust, all, as you grow older, learn your duties to her better than you do now."
"Mama, you have cheated us again," interrupted the children.
Alfred thought this was very good fun, and promised to be a very loyal subject.
"I am sure he is on the twenty-fourth of May," said Willie, "and drinks Queen Victoria's health till we are nearly deaf."
"Although I am not sure that there is much loyalty in this act, he shall have an opportunity to do so to-night. You know your aunt has begged that you may all dine with us to-day, and you shall have some wine at dessert."
The children were now so much elated at the idea of remaining with their parents, that all gloom vanished. Mr. Macdonald entered in the midst of their noisy demonstrations of joy, and they directly informed him of the agreeable arrangement. Alfred rode to the cellar on papa's shoulder; and the evening passed so pleasantly that they all said "good night," more cheerfully than they had expected. Mrs. Arabin and her children left at so early an hour the following morning, that only Mr. and Mrs. Macdonald saw them go. Their cousins comforted themselves with the hope that they should before long meet again, and be able to resume their game. Their future historical anecdotes may another time be related to those who are interested, and to those little boys and girls who wish to follow their example, and pass their spare hours pleasantly and instructively.
1. Death of Lord Chatham. A.D. 1778.
2. Death of Lord Nelson. A.D. 1805.
3. George the Fourth's Visit to Scotland. A.D. 1822.
4. Destruction of the Houses of Parliament. A.D. 1834.
5. Queen Victoria raising Lord Rolle at her Coronation. A.D. 1830.
The End.