"The subject of my picture to-night," said Mrs. Macdonald, when the
party was again assembled round a cheerful fire, "is that of a young
man, apparently about twenty-one years of age; his features are
handsome, particularly his eyes; his form is graceful, about the middle
height; he has a manly, military bearing; in his helmet he wears a
piece of a small-leaved plant, and with one hand he is encouraging some
workmen, who are busily engaged in pulling down a castellated building.
All seem to be working cheerfully under him; and he is so gentle in
appearance, that the little children are not afraid to come near him,
and look at the warlike ornaments of his dress. In the distance some
soldiers, evidently of a different country to the rest of the people,
are embarking in boats, with all their baggage."
"Were those the Romans going away, mama?" demanded Annie.
"No, my love; the building and the dress show a more advanced state of
civilization than our country presented at the time of their invasion;
besides, there is a trace of Saxon descent in my hero's countenance."
"Did he derive his Saxon blood from his grandmother?" asked Edward.
"I see you have guessed, my dear boy."
"Edward is so clever, we have none of us any chance when he is here,"
exclaimed Mary.
"Your cousin," replied Mrs. Macdonald, "has acquired so much
information by constant, persevering study and attention to what he has
been taught, and you will learn as much if you apply as steadily."
"What was the flower the kind man wore in his helmet, mama?" enquired
Alfred.
"Broom, which you must have seen growing on commons, and in grandpapa's
garden. Henry and his descendants took their surname from this
circumstance, _planta_ being the Latin for plant, and _genista_ for
broom; hence the name--"
"Plantagenet," cried several voices at once.
"Did not the Romans speak Latin, mama?" asked Mary.
"Yes, my dear; and perhaps, Annie, you can tell me who wrote an account
of the Roman invasion into Britain in the Latin language."
"Julius Cæsar, mama; his Commentaries principally relate to his wars in
Gaul; and once when he was obliged to swim from the ship to save his
life, he carried his arms in one hand, and his writings in the other."
"That would have made another good picture, mama," said Louisa to Mrs.
Arabin; "but I think it is now your turn; you have not told us one
to-night."
"Well, my dears, picture to yourselves the shore of a rocky island,
lovely scenery in the distance; the faint smoke of a then tranquil
volcano curling above the surrounding hills; soldiers, clad in coats of
mail, bearing crosses on their shields, are preparing to embark in the
numerous galleys which are waiting in the harbour; they yet stop for
one, whose noble mien and princely appearance seem to show him the
chief of the expedition; he is tenderly taking leave of a young and
lovely woman, who wears a golden diadem on her head; a veil descends
nearly to her feet, whilst a loose robe scarcely conceals the graceful
figure enveloped in its folds. Behind the pair stands an elderly
matron, trying to separate them, yet evidently with some reluctance."
[Illustration: Richard I. parting with Berengaria.]
"That was a sad parting, aunt," said Emily; "and I think the young lady
was not then married."
"You are right."
The rest of the party confessed themselves puzzled.
"Did you hear me say that the soldiers wore crosses?"
"Oh! that tells the tale," replied Annie.
Edward next began as follows:--"The scene of my picture is in the
precincts of a castle: a bold, intrepid looking figure on horseback is
seeking for the easiest place of attack, whilst at a small window in
the turret, depicted on the dark side of the picture, we descry an
archer aiming his bow and arrow at the figure below."
After some little deliberation, the supposed subject was confidentially
whispered to mama, who thought it was a right guess, after which the
name was more boldly mentioned.
"I am now going to tell a very shocking story," commenced Mary. "The
scene is a prison; cold stone walls, narrow windows, iron bars, and
rough seats, give no idea of comfort. A kind-looking man is seated in
the centre of the group, covering his face with one hand, whilst the
other rests on the head of a pretty boy, who looks beseechingly in his
face. The other figures are busily engaged heating some
curiously-shaped iron instruments."
"That is the poor, dear little prince who had his eyes put out by his
naughty uncle," cried Alfred, delighted at being able to guess one of
the many scenes described.
"I have heard the truth of that story doubted," remarked Mrs. Arabin.
"So have I," rejoined her sister; "but it is a legend which has become
so mixed up with history, that it is difficult to ascertain its truth,
and it is as well to know the tale. Now, my dear children, picture to
yourselves a battle. It appears to be an engagement during a civil
war, for the dress and appearance of the opponents are exactly alike.
There is a gloom spread over the whole picture; the redness of sunset
has scarcely faded away, and the moon is appearing in the horizon. On
one side we see an infirm monarch in the grasp of a soldier, who, with
his hand raised to strike the fatal blow, seems to hesitate with
astonishment. On the other side, one of princely deportment is
attracted by a voice from the spot where the scene I have just
described is taking place. By his side a noble figure has just had his
horse killed under him."
Louisa guessed this picture, and asked, "Was it not this prince whose
life was saved in the Holy Land by his wife's sucking the poison from a
wound in his arm?"
"So it is said," answered Mrs. Macdonald, "but the truth of the
statement is very much doubted. Now we will stop for this evening, as
I hear papa's knock; perhaps he may be able to come home early
to-morrow, and help us to puzzle each other."
"Oh! that will be nice," cried all the little voices at once. "But how
I should like to puzzle papa," added Willie; "I will read history all
the morning, when I have done my lessons."
"Very well, my dear; your leisure hours will then be profitably
employed, although the motive may be to give papa a difficult subject
rather than a love of information on your own part. But here comes
papa."
Mr. Macdonald now entered the room amidst the din of little voices, all
crying at once, "Do come home early to-morrow, dear papa." "Please do,
uncle."
1. Henry II. pulling down the castles erected by Stephen, and
discharging the foreign soldiers. A.D. 1154.
2. Richard I. parting with Berengaria, at Messina. A.D. 1189.
3. Death of Richard Coeur de Lion. A.D. 1199.
4. Prince Arthur. A.D. 1199.
5. Battle of Evesham. May 14th, A.D. 1265.