The following evening, Mrs. Macdonald, who had spent the day with an
invalid friend, found all the children seated and ready to resume their
historical amusement; her bonnet and shawl were soon taken from her,
and leading her to a chair, all once more crowded round her.
"We could not begin without you, dear mama; but aunt has been so kind
in entertaining us, that we have not been in the least impatient."
"As you have all had so much time to prepare, and I am tired," replied
Mrs. Macdonald, "one of you must commence. Louisa, you look as if you
had meditated on something with which to entertain us; let us hear your
thoughts."
"That I am quite ready to do, and will beg you to follow me to a
coronation; the king, about to have the crown placed on his head, is a
man with strongly marked features and a stern expression, of the middle
height, but showing great bodily power. His followers are dressed in
armour, made of very small iron rings linked together like net-work,
and so flexible, that it fits close to their bodies. The ceremony is
not yet completed; the people inside the building are noisy in
expressing their exultation and applause, but outside there are signs
of a tumult; the mob, in its excited state, has set fire to the
neighbouring houses, and is riotous in its indignation at some supposed
evil."
"There has been more than one king whose accession to the throne has
been against the wish of the nation," remarked Edward; "but I do not
remember any opposition when they were crowned."
"I believe," said Mrs. Macdonald, "that this king was a foreigner,
whose attendants had unjustly feared that their prince was betrayed."
"You have guessed it, I see, mama."
"And so have I," exclaimed an exulting little voice; "I think they
spoke a different language from our last night's Saxon friends. Annie,
it is now your turn."
"I shall," she directly began, "describe a quieter scene than the noisy
event just represented. A royal lady, with a mild, rather intellectual
countenance, is seated with her attendant ladies, busily employed in
working a large piece of tapestry. The history she is carefully
depicting appears to absorb her very much, and her industry has
produced the representation of some stirring scenes, for on her work we
descry horses, and riders, ships, soldiers, &c."
"Your picture is rather a short one," said Louisa, "but interesting
from the fact of the lady having been so worthy of admiration. I
should not like to have been born in those days, for I do not like
working, and they seem to have done nothing else."
"There are certainly large pieces of work said to have been executed in
this reign, but many believe female minds were more cultivated than we
suppose. Matilda of Flanders has been drawn with a book in her hand,
as if she were in the habit of reading, and by some means had formed
elegant tastes. Emily, you have long been silent; try and puzzle us
this time."
"I should like to do so, mama, but I fear the story I now relate will
soon be discovered. The scene is not laid in England, but near the
coast of an adjacent country, an exposed rock, on the summit of which
there was a castle but indifferently defended. A long siege had so
much weakened the garrison, that few were able to protect the prince
who led them; they were forced to surrender to the enemy at the foot of
the rock, who had anxiously expected the moment when starvation would
conquer their courage. The prince knelt to the victor for mercy; life
was granted; but he was cast out, with a few faithful followers, to
find shelter and support from any who would take pity on him."
"We were sure Emily would tell us something pathetic; it is a very
pretty story, but we cannot think who it is. Were there old men,
women, and children turned out, and taken care of by the besiegers?"
"No, it was not the taking of Calais by Edward III. I ought to have
told you that the rock was an island."
"Mama," whispered Alfred, who had secured his mother's lap, "do you ask
questions, for I am tired, and want to know."
Mrs. Macdonald indulged him, and begged to know if the conquered and
the conqueror were related to each other.
"Oh! mama, Emily moves her head to say yes. We know now; when little
boys I think they quarreled, because one of them threw a bucket of
water over the other; if they began so early to fight, no wonder they
hated each other in after life."
"Can any of you tell me," enquired their aunt, "what celebrated
building was erected in this reign? William, if you retain your wish
to study law, you may some day know more of its interior."
"I can tell you, mama; it was Westminster Hall; the Tower of London was
also much added to, some say commenced in this reign."
"Yes, but has been still more enlarged and altered since. Your aunt
mentioned Earl Godwin last night; it was in this reign that the lands
which had belonged to him were overflowed."
"I remember," said Alfred, looking very solemn as he thought of his
death; "but now, dear Edward, do tell us something funny."
"That will not be very easy," replied his cousin; "and I dare say mama
could obey your request much better than I can."
"I will tell a story next," exclaimed Willie; "the consequences were
sad, but the beginning will please Alfred. You must witness the toilet
of a king, and fancy he has taken a new scarlet cloak from his
attendant's hands; he tries in vain to fasten the hood, he pulls and
struggles, but the material will not bear such treatment, and is soon
torn."
"I think," said Mrs. Macdonald, "you have, to please your little
brother, chosen a curious specimen of your powers of memory."
"Indeed, mama, Holinshed is my authority; the sad end is, that the
cloak was sent to the king's brother, who, he said, had a smaller head
than his; this so hurt his brother's feelings, that he refused all
nourishment, and died in a few days. He was the king's prisoner at the
time."
For some minutes all seemed inclined to think Willie had told them too
silly a story to take any trouble about; but their mother reminded them
that the exercise of thought was the same. "Did the king," she asked,
"die a year after his poor brother?"
"Yes, mama, in 1135."
"Then," added Louisa, "they were the same brothers who fought at St.
Michael's rock; and I think the king died from eating too much of a
favourite dish of fish."
"How smart the scarlet cloak must have been," remarked Alfred.
"You might have liked that," replied his mother, "but you would not
have admired the shoes they wore in those days; the toes had such long
points that they were fastened to the knee by a chain. Willie must not
take your turn, Edward."
"My history, mama, will be very different; for I wish to describe a
fine vessel tossed about on the waves of the English Channel. Her
destruction is evident; and, in their eagerness, some of the poor
perishing creatures crowd into a boat, which is already full. It stays
to rescue one other female: a prince holds out his arms to her; she is
caught, and you trust saved; but too many follow her, and the boat
being overloaded, struggles for a short time with the elements, and
then sinks with all on board, never to rise again."
One of the party whispered, "The young prince's father was never seen
to smile again."
"You are quite right, Mary; now let us hear your anecdote."
"My scene is laid in winter; the snow covers the country; a town is
besieged, and the soldiers are quietly resting at night, expecting that
the dreadful scarcity of provisions will soon make the enemy surrender.
Four figures, as white as the snow over which they hastily move, have
issued from a postern-door; they have crossed the frozen river, and are
now escaping the sentinels, who seem to be ignorant of their flight."
"Mama," said Alfred, "they must have been white bears. I saw one in
the Zoological Gardens, and Annie was so afraid it would get out."
"I remember the circumstance, and that one little boy was thoughtless
enough to teaze his sister, which was a silly way of trying to overcome
her foolish fears. She will, I am sure, conquer them herself, when she
finds how much they interfere with her usefulness. I think Edward's
account relates to a scene in England, and the white bear is only found
in the Polar Seas."
"Was not one of the fugitives a woman, Edward?" asked one of his
cousins; "and had she not a young son who met her on this occasion?"
"Yes, he joined his mother on her escape from Oxford at Wallingford.
Mama, are there not some curious accounts of their escapes?"
"Yes; the royal mother was taken to Oxford in a litter, as if she had
been a corpse; on another occasion she mounted a swift horse, and rode
with the greatest speed from Winchester to Devizes. She was an
intrepid, courageous woman, and had been chosen by her father, Henry
I., to succeed him; before his death he made his nobles swear fealty to
her."
The hour for leaving their favourite game had now arrived: and with
repeated hopes of renewing it the next evening, they bade good-bye to
their kind mother.
1. Coronation of William I. A.D. 1066.
2. Matilda of Flanders working her husband's conquests.
3. William II. besieging Prince Henry at St. Michel. A.D. 1088.
4. Henry I. sending his cloak to his brother Robert. A.D. 1125.
5. The loss of the "White Ship." A.D. 1120.
6. The escape of the Empress Maude from Oxford. A.D. 1141.