"THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY."
HOW many of the Pansies know what Westminster Abbey is? Of course a
large number of you little folks are not yet acquainted with it. I
don't know a pleasanter way for people of your age to learn about it,
than to read the book bearing the title which I have given above.
Listen to what it says about the building, "That Abbey is the record
of the growth of our two great nations. Within its walls we are on
common ground. America is represented just as much as England. All
English and American boys and girls should love Westminster Abbey."
There are pictures of the wonderful and beautiful building scattered
through the book; thirty-two illustrations, in a book of two hundred
and ninety-four pages. It is almost like visiting the building itself,
to read about it in this book written by Rose Kingsley. It is a
beautifully bound volume, my copy being in brown and gold. Usual price
one dollar. To members of the P. S. sixty cents. In ordering from D.
Lothrop & Co., you must not omit to say that you are entitled to the
book at the reduced price because you are an enrolled member of the P.
S.
With this introduction, I am going to let the story speak for itself,
by giving you a page or two from it, together with the picture of "The
Cradle Tomb."
[Illustration: "THE CRADLE TOMB."]
"On what used to be the altar step of the north aisle of Westminster
Abbey, 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 marble--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
readers; for she is none other than Susan Coolidge. And the lovely
verses--some of which I venture to transcribe--appeared in _Scribner'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 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 solemnity, 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 coffin 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 officers-of-arms,
to the Parliament stairs at Westminster. Thence the procession went to
the southeast door of the Abbey, where it was met by the great lords of
the Council, the Heralds, and chief officers of the court."