fixed for the ceremony in Scotland had to be more than Booxi, twice postponed, in order to ensure his presence. In all, un0* more than six months elapsed before the babe was really op baptized. We will hope that the Court Chronicler exagge- walmrates a little when he tells us that 'the time intervening Jvw ««• was spent in magnificent banquetting and revelling.' If the hapt'isnie so, the potations at Stirling must have vied with those of "i/g'JtwZ' Elsinore. Ms.addtt.,

5795 (B. MJ.

When the long-expected day arrived (30 August, 1594) the child lay 'on a bed of estate richly decored . . with the story of Hercules.' The old Countess of Mar lifted him into the arms of Lennox, and by him the babe was transferred to those of the English ambassador who held him during baptism. Then Patrick Galloway, we are told, learnedly entreated upon a text from the 21st chapter of Genesis.

The Bishop of Aberdeen taught, in his turn, upon the Sacrament of Baptism—first in the vulgar tongue and then in Latin—and his discourse was followed by the twenty-first Psalm, 'sung to the great delectation of the noble auditory,' and .also by a panegyric upon the Prince, delivered in Latin verse, from the pulpit. Then came a banquet, at which 'six gallant dames' had the cruel task assigned them of performing 'a silent comedy.' To the banquet succeeded a 'desart of sugar,' drawn in upon a triumphal chariot. The original programme had provided that this richly-laden chariot should be drawn by a lion, for whose due tameness the projector had pledged himself. But to King James a lion, like a sword, was at all times an unpleasant object. He said that it would affright the ladies, and that 'a black-moore' would be a more safe propeller. Banquet and dessert together lasted from eight o'clock in the evening until three of the following morning. chaTm ^ intervals, the cannon of Stirling Castle roared, until, L.keof says our chronicler, 'the earth trembled therewith.'

Henry, ....

Practof Thus was ushered in a brief but remarkable life. It lasted less than nineteen years. Then to the cradle which ind., pp. 6- had been so richly emblazoned with the labours of Her

17 verso.

Cules, in all the colours of embroidery, there succeeded the hearse of black velvet thickly set with its plumes of sombre feathers. One half, however, of those nineteen years that stood between cradle and hearse were years passed upon an arena to which the course of events had given almost world-wide importance and conspicuousness. The Prince's career was, by the necessity of his position still more than by reason of his youth, a career of promise, not of performance. But every year which passed after the removal from Scotland seems to have intensified the promise in the eyes of those who watched it, as well as to have deepened a conviction in the minds of nearly all thoughtful bystanders that to a grand ambition there were about to be proffered, in God's due time, means and appliances more than usually large, and a grand field of action. So it seemed to human expectation. And because, in those long-past years, it reasonably seemed so, there is still somewhat of a real human interest attaching to incidents which, otherwise, would be trivial and barren.

One unhappy circumstance which occurred before Henry was eighteen months old testified to the existence, even at Early Dis- that date, of unhappy domestic relations of the kind which


Coubt. on many subsequent occasions brought bitterness into his daily life. Queen Anne was deprived of the care of her child very soon after his baptism. The Earl of Mar was appointed to be his governor, and the Earl's mother assumed that place in the upbringing of the royal infant which, in most cases, custom no less than nature would have assigned Book I, to the Queen herself. Her natural resentment brought S!,to"' about more than one angry discussion at Court. After or one of those scenes of turbulence, James gave to Mar, in WALES writing, this characteristic command: 'Because in the surety of my son consisteth my surety, I have concredited unto you the charge of his keeping. . . . This I command you out of my own mouth, being in the company of those I like. Otherwise, for [i.e. notwithstanding] any charge or necessity that can come from me, you shall not deliver him.'

In 1599, Adam Newton became Prince Henry's tutor; and the choice seems to have been a happy one. The boy had a most towardly inclination to learn. The tutor had both a genuine love of letters and a real delight in teaching. He had also the wisdom which shuns extremes. Under Newton's care the child remained, in spite of an obliging offer from Pope Clement The Eighth to have him educated at Rome under the papal eye.

At the death of Elizabeth, and after receiving the news of his own proclamation as her successor, the delighted father wrote to his son—then just entering on his tenth year—a letter which depicts its writer in a way as lifelike as does the warrant addressed to Mar. I quote it, literally, from the hurriedly-written original, as it now lies before me: 'My Sonne, That I see you not before my Jamespairting, impute it to this greate occasion, quhairin tyme is p^"0 so precious. But that I* shall, by Goddes grace, shortlie "h"tm".


* The word ' hope,' or some like expression, seems here to have been English intended, but omitted. The repetition of the word 'shortlie' will suf- C"°«Nficiently indicate to the reader the haste with which this effusion was written,—just as the King was about to mount for the long looked-for journey southwards. The letter has been printed by Birch, but with amendments.

Ijooki, be recompenced by your cumming to me shortlie, and conLwiof tinuall residence with me ever after. Lett not this news "rince Of make you proude or insolent. For a Kings sonne and Walk. heire was ye before, and na maire are ye yett. The augmentation that is heirby lyke to fall unto you is but in caires and heavie burthens. Be therefore merrie, but not insolent. Keepe a greatness, but sine fastu. Be resolute, but not willfull. Keeye your kyndness, but in honorable sorte. Choose none to be your play fellowis but thaime that are well-borne. And above all things, give never good countenance to any but according as ye shall be informed that thay are in estimation with me. Looke upon all Englishmen that shall cum to visit you as among youre loving subjects; not with that ceremonie as towardis straingers, and yett with such hartines as at this tyme they deserve.' And so forth. For, notwithstanding the King's haste to set out on his journey, his pen ran on. But all his advice is in one strain. The variations are for ornament. In me, he says (only not so briefly), you see a model king. Mould yourself after that pattern, and you will be a model prince. 'I send you my booke,' he adds— referring to IWiAifcov Swpov— . . . ' ye must level everie mannis opinions or advices unto you, as ye finde thaime agree or discorde with the rules thaire sett down.' Near as they commonly were in person, in the after years, James still found occasion to write to Henry a good many letters. This one theme runs through them all. But no amount of hortatory discourse could hinder the new metal from overrunning the worn and antiquated mould. Pjubce Prince Henry came into England in the June of 1603. E.noland. He was invested with the Garter on the 2nd of July at Windsor. Sir Thomas Chaloner (son of Elizabeth's well-known ambassador to the Emperor) succeeded Mar in the office of Governor. He was a man of many accora- Booki, plishments, and had a strong bias for some of the physical Loto* sciences. But it does not seem that he possessed that force of character which in the elder Sir Thomas Chaloner wale5was a conspicuous quality.

From a very early age, Henry showed that in him were combined in happy proportions a strong relish for the pleasures of literature with a relish not less keen for the pursuits and employments of an active and out-of-doors life. He could enjoy books thoroughly, without being absorbed by them. He had a manly delight in field sports, without falling under the temptation to become a slave to his pastime. If in anything his enjoyments tended to excess, as he grew towards maturity, it was seen in his devotion to warlike exercises. So that even the excess testified to that real manliness of spirit which keeps the body in subjection, instead of pampering its pleasures and its aptitudes. He seems to have learnt, unusually early in life, that the natural instincts of youth will have their truest gratification, and will retain their fullest zest, when made, by deliberate choice, steps towards a conscious fitness for the duties of manhood. Alike in what we have from his own pen, and in the testimonies of those who were the closest observers of his brief career, we see evidence that he had formed a due estimate of the responsibilities that, to human view, lay close before him. Of his thoughts about kingship we possess only fragments. Of his father's thoughts on that subject we enjoy an exhaustive exposition. The contrast in the thinking is curiously significant.

Some of the best known anecdotes of Henry's life exhibit the interest he felt in naval matters. That tendency may, perhaps, have taken its birth in a London

« ElőzőTovább »