Stories and Legends of Travel and History, for Children Part 3

After the services, when all save she had left the church, Lady Evremond lingered for some time before a white marble monument, which stood under a high church window. The sculpture on this monument represented the young Lord Evremond, as he lay on his couch, when dying,--and an angel, with a face very like his, lovingly lifting him from his mother's arms, to bear him to heaven.

As Lady Evremond gazed on the marble image of her dead boy, she murmured:

"Have I not been true to thy trust, my son?"

Late in the dim twilight of that day, another form was kneeling beside that monumental couch. It was Robert Selwyn; and when he rose, there were tears on that sweet marble face. All night long they glistened in the pale moonlight, and sad starlight, s.h.i.+ning through that high church window; but in the morning the happy sunbeams came softly down and kissed them all away.

Hampton Court

THE LADY MARY'S VISION.

How well I remember one pleasant morning in September--more than two years ago, I declare!--when a merry party of us, English and Americans, met at the counting house of our n.o.ble friend, Mr. B----, to go from thence to Hampton Court. It was in the city of London that we met.

This is entered from the town, which holds most of the parks and palaces of royalty and the n.o.bility, by an old, old gateway, called Temple Bar. When the Queen is to pay a visit to the city, Temple Bar gate is closed, and she must respectfully ask admittance of the lord mayor, and he must graciously present the keys to her before she may come in. The lord mayor is the real king of London, and takes precedence of royalty in all processions in the city, as, for instance, the funeral procession of the Duke of Wellington, after it pa.s.sed Temple Bar. All lord mayors are elected from the board of aldermen; they serve but one year, during which time they live in a very handsome residence, called "The Mansion House," and ride in a splendid, but rather gaudy and old-fas.h.i.+oned coach--something such as you have seen pictures of in the story of d.i.c.k Whittington.

Each new sovereign attends, with the court, a grand ball, given by the lord mayor, at Guildhall; on which occasion there is always a magnificent display, both on the part of the aristocracy and the citizens.

Guildhall is a large building, where the aldermen and councilmen meet, to transact business and eat good dinners. In the hall where b.a.l.l.s and great banquets are given stand two gigantic painted figures, called Gog and Magog, which are very quaint and odd-looking, and I don't know how many years old.

"But what," you will say, "has all this to do with Hampton Court?"

Well, we started from the city, a social, merry party, of five or six; and, after laughing and chatting in a comfortable English railway carriage, for a few minutes, arrived at the station, near the palace.

The old palace of Hampton Court stands on the northern bank of the Thames, about twelve miles west of Hyde Park, and is situated in the parish of Hampton, and county of Middles.e.x.

In the reign of Henry VIII., when the great prelate, Cardinal Wolsey, was at the height of his power, he leased the old manor and manor-house of the Knights-Hospitallers of Jerusalem, to whom it then belonged, for the purpose of building a palace suitable to his rank and splendor. He erected a structure so magnificent, and so far surpa.s.sing any of the royal residences, that he quite overshot his mark, and roused the jealousy of the king, who bluntly asked him what he, a priest, and a butcher's son, meant by building for himself a palace handsomer than any of his king's. Then the cunning Cardinal, putting the best face he could on the matter, said that he had only been trying to build a residence worthy of so great and glorious a monarch, and that Hampton Court was at King Henry's service. The king jumped at the offer, but in return bestowed upon Wolsey the old manor of Richmond, the favorite residence of his father, Henry VII. It was observed, when the great Cardinal was going home, after this interview with his royal master, that he scowled and growled at his followers, and belabored the poor mule that he rode most unmercifully.

So, by gift from Cardinal Wolsey, Hampton Court became the property of the crown.

Edward VI. was born in this palace, and mostly resided here, during his short, but happy reign. Gloomy Queen Mary and her false hearted husband, Philip of Spain, spent their honey-moon, or rather vinegar-moon, here. Queen Elizabeth here gave several great festivals, and her successor, the mean and pedantic James I. held a great religious conference in the privy-chamber,--he, the most immoderate of bigots, sitting as _moderator_. Here he entertained some great French princes at one time, very handsomely; every thing being on a royal scale except the host. Here he lost his wife, Anne of Denmark, a very respectable sort of a woman, much too good for him.

Charles I., with his queen and court, sought refuge at this place from the plague, which was ravaging London. But there was another trouble that came upon him from which he could not escape, even here. Death, with his scythe, pa.s.sed by the healthful shades of the country palace, but the executioner with his axe was not to be evaded.

The Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, resided sometimes at this palace; but his favorite daughter, Elizabeth, a very lovely woman, died here, and after that, it was the saddest place in all the world to him.

Charles II., with his gay court, which hardly held one honest man, or reputable woman, used to hold revels here; and stubborn James II.

resided here now and then, till he was driven by a roused people from throne, palace, and country. William III. was very partial to Hampton Court, and did much to improve and adorn it. His queen here performed prodigious labors in the embroidery line, and kept her maids of honor as hard at work on chair covers and bed curtains as though they were poor seamstresses, toiling for their daily bread.

George II. and Queen Caroline were the last sovereigns who resided at this palace. It is now only occupied by the officers and servants who have charge of it, and some dowagers and poor women of rank, called in England "decayed gentlewomen." To those ladies the queen allots apartments, and they live very handsomely and comfortably, though I should think they would have rather lonely times, amid the melancholy grandeur and stillness of that deserted old palace.

Over the gateway by which we entered are carved the arms of Cardinal Wolsey, with a Latin inscription, signifying "G.o.d is my help," a lying motto, as his own words afterwards proved; for, when dying in disgrace, he exclaimed, "If I had served my G.o.d half as faithfully as I have served my king, He would not have given me over to my enemies in my old age."

We went up the grand staircase, to the guard-chamber, and from thence pa.s.sed through several suites of n.o.ble rooms, hung with pictures and ancient tapestry, with frescoed ceilings, and carved and gilded cornices. The most interesting among the pictures are portraits of famous people, kings, queens, princes, heroes, and beauties, of whom we read in history.

But as there are more than a thousand paintings at Hampton Court, of course I cannot stop to describe any of these, though about many I could tell you very strange and romantic stories.

The most magnificent apartment in the palace, and one of the grandest in the world, is the great hall, which is one hundred and six feet long, forty wide, and sixty high. The roof is beautifully carved and decorated with the royal arms and badges, the walls are hung with costly tapestry, the windows are richly stained, and bear the arms and pedigree of Henry VIII. and his six wives.

From this hall we pa.s.sed through another splendid apartment, called "the withdrawing room," down "the queen's staircase," into a court, containing a pretty fountain, and from thence into the gardens. These are very fine, but rather too stiffly and formally laid out to suit our modern taste. I remember one narrow, gloomy alley, of boxwood, or yew, called "Queen Mary's Walk," after b.l.o.o.d.y Mary, who used to take her evening exercise here alone, marching slowly up and down in the waning twilight, meditating, I fear, those frightful persecutions, rackings, and burnings of the poor Protestants, and trying to steel her heart against the womanly pity that would creep into it sometimes, in spite of all the admonitions of Cardinal Pole and Bishop Gardiner, and the counsels of her cruel husband.

The greatest curiosity of these gardens is a Hamburg grape-vine, supposed to be the largest in the world. It alone fills a green-house seventy-two feet long and thirty broad. It is itself one hundred and ten feet long; and is thirty inches in circ.u.mference, three feet from the ground. It often bears as many as two thousand five hundred bunches.

From the green-house, we walked down to the Thames, and then returned through a beautiful avenue of linden-trees, to the east part of the palace, where there is a fountain and a basin containing gold and silver fish. Then we whiled away another hour in the grounds, the "Labyrinth," and under the n.o.ble chestnut and lime trees in the great avenue, which is more than a mile in length, and then the golden day was over!

THE LADY MARY'S VISION,

_A Story of Hampton Court._

Some ten years ago, there resided for a time, in a pleasant suite of apartments at Hampton Court, a young and beautiful gentlewoman, who was greatly beloved by all who knew her, for her goodness and her sweet and winning ways. Lady Mary Hamilton, or "the Lady Mary," as she was called by the pensioners and retainers there, was the youngest daughter of a poor Scottish n.o.bleman, and the widow of a still poorer young officer. Captain Hamilton, soon after his marriage, was ordered to join the army in Afghanistan and for several months dared danger and death, and endured frightful hards.h.i.+ps, in that dreadful war against a treacherous and savage people.

At last, in a skirmish among the mountains, he was seen to fall under the spear-thrust of a fierce Afghan chief, and was reported as "killed," though his body was never recovered by his victorious comrades. It was supposed that the natives had carried him off in their retreat, to plunder him at leisure.

But the Lady Mary never would give him up as really dead; and though she was very sorrowful and anxious for him, she could not be persuaded to put on a widow's dress, or cover her soft, brown hair with a widow's cap. She even refused to receive a widow's pension, professing always a firm belief that her husband was yet living.

Month after month went by, till two long years had pa.s.sed, and brought her no word from her beloved George; and still she did not despair.

It was said that she was kept up by happy dreams--that her husband often came to her in her sleep, and told her to be of good cheer, and all would yet be well. However that may have been, it is certain that she never wholly lost heart.

The queen kindly offered Lady Mary apartments at Hampton Court, and she gladly accepted, for she was poor, and then, she felt that she should like the melancholy quiet of the old palace far better than the gayety and bustle of the town. And so she came to Hampton Court to live, and "wait for my husband," she said, smiling sadly, while her friends shook their heads, and whispered among themselves that "the poor dear creature was hardly in her right mind."

The lonely Lady Mary soon became a great favorite with the guards and servitors at Hampton Court. They all felt for her a tender, respectful pity, and would do any thing in their power to serve her. Being very shy, she never liked to visit the show apartments of the palace, at hours when she might meet strangers. So, the kind porter would often let her go in by herself, and sometimes even give her the keys, that she might stay as long as she pleased in any of the halls or galleries.

She was romantic and poetical, and loved much to visit the grand old hall, on summer evenings, and see the rich sunset light pour in, and then fade softly out through the gorgeous stained windows. Sometimes, she would linger here till the long twilight was over, and the starlight and moonlight struggled through the stained gla.s.s, and faintly lit up the hall, silvering over the faded tapestry and banners, glistening on the old arms and armor. Strolling up and down the hall, or seated under one of the great windows, she would think and dream, and try to forget the sorrows of her humble life in remembering the misfortunes of the great and royal ones, who had so often walked where she walked, and sat where she sat.

Once old Roger, the porter, asked her if she were not afraid to stay there, all alone by herself, so late.

"Why, no," she answered, "what should I be afraid of?"

He shrugged his shoulders, but said no more; I suppose because he did not know what to say, to such a simple, childlike question.

One lovely August evening, the Lady Mary stayed later than usual in "Wolsey's Hall."

The sunset glory faded and faded away; the twilight deepened and deepened into night; the moon and the stars looked in upon her through the great window. She was weary and sad, and the lonely stillness of that place seemed to suit her; she seemed to _feel_ the calm moonlight in which she sat, bathing her like a soft, soothing flood. She leaned her head against the tapestried wall, closed her eyes, and thought, and thought of the great days and splendid festivals long gone by--of kings and queens, brave knights, and beautiful ladies, and--when all at once that vast hall was lighted up as though by magic! Music swelled through the arches, and a splendid court came slowly sweeping in!

First walked a stout, red-faced man, all velvets and jewels, with a dark, sorrowful-looking lady on his right; and on his left, an elderly man, with a bold, haughty face, and a rich dress of scarlet velvet and ermine.

The Lady Mary recognized these as Henry VIII., Queen Katharine, and Cardinal Wolsey.

They were followed by maids of honor, gentlemen, priests, and pages.

Soon there was a livelier peal of music, and the dance began. The king danced with the most beautiful of the maids of honor, whom he smiled lovingly upon, while the poor queen looked very unhappy. So the Lady Mary knew that this fair maid must be Anne Boleyn.

When the dance ended, the gay court pa.s.sed out; but again there was music, and another swept in. This was headed by a proud, stately woman, with golden hair, and cold blue eyes. She wore a sparkling diadem; her dress was of stiff brocade, thickly bestrewn with pearls and diamonds, while about her neck was a ruff so prodigious, that it alone would keep everybody at a very respectful distance. On her left, walked a handsome n.o.ble, most royally dressed, and behind came a brilliant host of beauties, pages, cavaliers, poets, and statesmen.

The Lady Mary now recognized Queen Elizabeth, the Earl of Ess.e.x, and the court.