CHAPTER IV.
"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."
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.