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spoiled in the dirt.” So it was stitched in. “ Now, then, just take the big loaf in your fist, and don't be afraid of it, for a better one was never baked but once."

This was a friendly act; and such an unexpected kindness at parting much relieved the poor fellow's heart; so, turning round, he bade them all farewell with more feeling and cordiality than he had done before ; and, attended by the blessings and good wishes of the whole family, he set out with lighter spirits upon his journey.

The various adventures which befel Connor on the road we shall take an early opportunity of presenting to our readers.



Lo! the dread cannon's opening bray

Lo! the startled archers yield !-
The Black Prince wins his spurs to-day,

But King Edward wins the field.
'Twas at Cressy, boys! Did ye never hear

That name of old renown?
'Tis one of the jewels bright and clear,
That gem our English crown!
Then on !—for home and freedom, on !

On for the leopards three !
Each man of us is Old England's son,

And our cry is “LIBERTY !"
Lo! horse to horse, and lance to lance,

The serry'd ranks appear,
To fight the proudest hosts of France

With Harry Lancaster.
'Twas at AGINCOURT! Did ye never hear

That name of old renown?
'Tis one of the jewels bright and clear
That gem our British crown!

Then on !—for home, &c.
The Bourbon proud with his yelping pack

Swept the earth from north to south,
Till old Marlborough came and drove them back,

With their boastings in their mouth.
'Twas at BLENHEIM, boys! Did ye never hear

That name of old renown?
'Tis one of the jewels, bright and clear,
That gem our English crown!

Then on for home, &c.
Proud, proud the day, when the Victory bore

On the fleets of France and Spain;
Yet our laurels droop'd, for a hero's gore

Ting'd them with withering stain.
'Twas at TRAFALGAR! Did ye never hear

That name of bright renown?
'Tis one of the jewels, bright and clear,
That gem our British crown!

Then on !-for home, &e.

With wavering fate, now won, now lost,

Our fight of fights sped on;
But 'twas ours at last, for our gallant host

Was led by Wellington!
'Twas at WATERLOO! Did ye never hear

That name of fresh renown?
'Tis one of the jewels, bright and clear,
That gem our British crown!

Then on for home, &c.




'The Thames at Hampton Court — The Rape of the Lock.—Magnificence of

Wolsey.-The loves of Lord Surrey and the fair Geraldine.-Royal Inhabitants of Hampton Court.-A Cook's Philosophy.—The Picture Gallery.— The Maze.

The lover of poetry, as he sails from Kingston to Hampton Court, will not fail to remember, that upon these waters Pope has laid the scene of his beautiful “ Rape of the Lock.” It was here,

" While melting music stole along the sky," that Mrs. Arabella Fermor, the Belinda of the song, was rowed in her gilded barge, the loveliest of the lovely, with her fair nymphs and well. dressed youths around her, and the “adventurous Baron” Lord Petre, already planning the larceny which gave such offence to the fair one and her family, but which, adorned by the luxuriant fancy of the poet, was the means of giving such delight to all the world besides. Since that time, the Thames at Hampton has been a haunted spot, sacred to the sylphs and all the bright militia of the sky. For their invention Pope is entitled to greater credit than he has ever yet received; for, notwithstanding his own assertion, and the acquiescence of Johnson and other critics, who did not know German, he borrowed nothing but their names from the Rosicrucians,-a fact of which any one will be convinced who will take the trouble to read the “ Chiave del Gabinetto del Cabaliere Borri,or the philosophical romance, “ The Count de Gabalis,” by the Abbé de Villars.

The scenery upon both shores of the Thames is here truly beauti. ful. Cardinal Wolsey saw and became enamoured of it, when it had nothing but its own natural charms to recommend it, and resolved to fix his permanent abode among scenes so lovely. While yet the manor of Hampton belonged to the Knights of St. John of Jerusa. lem, Wolsey, whose attendance upon the King at Hanworth drew him frequently to the neighbourhood, and who must have constantly passed it on his way to Esher, a place which belonged to his bishoprick of Winchester, took a liking to the spot, and chose it as the future site of the finest palace that had ever yet been erected in England. He took a lease of the manor, which extended at that time from Ditton to Walton, on the Surrey shore, and included

Hampton, part of Hanworth, Teddington, and Hounslow Heath, in Middlesex, from the Prior of St. John, and begun his magnificent building in the year 1515. He had been upwards of ten years employed upon it, when the vastness of the design began to excite the admiration and envy of all who beheld it. His enemies took occa. sion of the remarks that were universally made to stir up the jealousy of the King against his minister ; and Henry asked him why he had built a palace so far surpassing any of those belonging to his sovereign. The Cardinal, prompt at an expedient, but ever princely, replied, that he was merely trying to construct a residence worthy to be given to a King of England. The wrath of the tyrant was appeased, and in exchange for the magnificent gift he gave Wolsey permission to reside in the royal manor and palace of Richmond. Wolsey, however, continued to reside occasionally in that part of the palace of Hampton Court which was already built ; for Henry knew too well the fine taste of the Cardinal in architecture to permit any meaner hand to complete what he had begun. Although he thus lived in the palace as a mere tenant, he was in most respects as much its master as if it still remained his own. It was here he gave his magni. ficent festivals, and particularly that great one to the French ambassa. dors, of which so minute an account has been handed down to us by Cavendish, a gentleman of his household, and his biographer. The fes. tival was given in the year 1528, after the conclusion of a solemn peace between England, France, and the Emperor of Germany. The ambassadors were successively entertained at Greenwich, London, Richmond, Hampton, and Windsor. The King entertained them at Greenwich, -the Lord Mayor in London,—the King again at his park in Richmond, and Wolsey at Hampton Court. The reception they met from Wolsey was by far the most magnificent. The account handed down to us by the minute and accurate historian, gives us a grand idea of the power and splendour of that proud churchman. The rich hang. ings of arras, the massive silver and gold plate, the regiments of tall yeomen in gay liveries that waited upon the guests,—the glare of the torches, the costliness and excellence of the wines, the savour of the meats, and the superabundance of everything, are all set forth very eloquently by honest old Stowe, who seems to have imagined that no feast ever given in the world before could have equalled the Cardinal's. Afier describing all these things in a style and language of most agree. able roughness and simplicity, he continues, "the trumpets were blowen to warn to supper; the officers discreetly conducted these no. blemen from their chambers into the chamber where they should sup, and caused them there to sit downe ; and that done, their service came uppe in such abundance, both costly and full of subtleties, and with such a pleasant noise of instruments of music, that the Frenchmen (as it seemed) were rapte into a heavenly paradise. The Cardinall was not yet come, but they were all merrie and pleasant. Before the sec. ond course, the Cardinall came in booted and spurred, all sodainly amongst them, and bade them • Proface!' (much good may it do you !) at whose coming there was a great joye, with rising everie man from his place. The Cardinall caused them to sit still and keep their roomes; and, being in his apparell as he rode, called for a chaire and sat in the midst of the high table. Anone came up the second course, with so many dishes, subtleties, and devices, above a hundred

in number, which were of so goodly proportion and costlie, that I think the Frenchmen never saw, the like. The wonder was no less than it was worthie indeed. There were castles, with images the same as in Paul's church, for the quantity as well counterfeited as the painter should have painted it on a cloth or wall. There were beasts, birds, and personages, most lively made and counterfeited, some fighting with swords, some with guns and cross-bowes, some vaulting and leaping, some dancing with ladies, some on horses in complete harnesse, jousting with long and sharp speares, with many more devices. Among all other was a chess-board made of spiced plate, with men thereof the same ; and for the good proportion, and because the Frenchmen be verie expert in that play, my Lord Cardinall gave the same to a gentle. man of France, commanding there should be made a goodlie case for the preservation thereof in all haste, that he might convey the same in. to his countrey. Then took my lord a bowl of gold filled with ippocrass, and putting off his cappe, said, I drink to the King my sovereign lord, and next unto the King your master,' and therewith drank a good draught. And when he had done, he desired the grand master to pledge him, cup and all, the which was well worth five hundred marks, and so caused all the lords to pledge these two royal princes. Then went the cups so merriely about, that many of the Frenchmen were fain to be led to their beds."

In less than two short years afterwards, what a change came over the fortunes of the minister! To quote again the words of the same historian, Wolsey, being in disgrace, left London, and having no house of his own to go to, “ rode

straight to Esher, which is a house belong. ing to the bishoprick of Winchester, not far from Hampton Court, where my lord and his family continued for the space of three or four weekes without either beds, sheetes, table-clothes, or dishes to eate their meate in, or wherewith to buye anie. Howbeit there was good provision of victual, and of beer and wine ; but my lord was compelled of necessitie to borrowe of Master Arundel, and of the Bishop of Carlisle, plate and dishes both to drinke and eate his meate


It was then when, to use his own words to his attached servants who thronged around him, " he had nothing left him but the bare clothes on his back," that he first began to be really convinced that

“He had touch'd the highest point of all his greatness,
And from the full meridian of his glory
Was ḥastening to his setting, and to fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,

No man to see him more !" Wolsey was again taken into favour, and again disgraced, and died before the palace was completed. Henry continued the work with great vigour, and was always much attached to the place. He took a sort of dislike to it after the death of his favourite wife, the Lady Jane Seymour, who expired within its walls two days after giving birth to King Edward the Sixth. With more grief than might have been expected from so mere an animal, he could not bear to look at the palace for several weeks, and retired to mourn his loss in private, clinging pertinaciously to the garments of sable, and refusing to be comforted. But the fit soon wore off; he found himself another wife, in the person of Anne of Cleves, “a great Flanders

mare,” as he called her; a compliment which she might have returned with as much elegance, and with more justice, by calling him a “great English hog." He never tired of her, for the good reason that he always hated her. She was allowed to reside at Hampton Court, until all the preparations were made for her divorce, when the King, according to Stowe, wishing to get rid of her, “caused her to remove to Rich. mond, persuading her it should be more for her health and pleasure, by reason of the clear and open air there.”

His next Queen, Catherine Howard, was for awhile judged wor. thy to appear at his festivals in Hampton Court; but, being anything but a discreet woman, and her husband growing tired of her, she was divorced by the most summary of all divorces, the executioner's knife. The new Queen, Catherine Parr, was married in a very short time afterwards, with great pomp and rejoicings at Hampton Court. The ceremony was performed in July, 1543; and from that period to the death of Henry, the palace was a constant scene of gaiety.

It was in one of these festivals that the poetic Earl of Surrey first became, or thought himself, enamoured of the fair Geraldine, whose name is almost as famous in connection with his, as that of Laura with the amorous Petrarch's. In his description and praise of his love he says,

“ Foster'd she was with milk of Irish breast;

Her sire an earl-her dame of princes' blood.
From tender years in Britain doth she rest

With kynge's child, where tasteth costly food,
Hunsdon did first present her to mine eyne,

Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she hight:
Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine."

The story of the great love entertained by this agreeable poet and accomplished gentleman for the beautiful Geraldine has been much commented on, and forms a romantic episode in his unfortunate life. It would be much more romantic if it were true as tradition has handed it down to us. He is said to have written her name and some amorous verses upon a window at Hampton Court,—to have excited thereby the jealousy of the King and finally to have been brought to the scaffold from that, among many

other causes.

The name of the lady whom he has celebrated was for a long time unknown, until Horace Walpole proved that she was the Lady Elizabeth Fitzgerald, daughter of the Earl of Kildare, and one of the maids of honour of the Princess Mary. When Surrey first saw her, he was a married man, living affectionately with his wife, and the fair Geraldine was a mere child of thirteen years of age. Surrey himself was in his twenty-fourth year. There is no doubt that he was struck with her beauty, and that he has celebrated her in the tenderest amorous poetry. Whether he loved her is quite another question. It should be remembered that Surrey's great master in the art of poetry was Petrarch, whom he devoutly and enthusiastic. ally studied; and that effectually to imitate him, it was necessary that he should have a lady-love, upon whose imaginary coldness or slights he might pour out the whole flow of his amorous versification.

There is not the slightest evidence to show that his attachment, if the name can be bestowed upon a mere conceit, ever went beyond

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