ladies met her at Berwick, with the dresses and jewels of their defunct queen Elizabeth, she refused to appoint any of them, excepting lady Bedford, to offices in her bed-chamber, though such were the king's orders. She meant to retain the friends and familiars she had had about her since her girlhood in Scotland, and these she was determined should suffice for her household in England. She chose to keep her chamberlain Kennedy in his place, against the king's express injunctions. Enough had been seen by king James, of the English jealousy of strangers, to convince him, that his new subjects would not suffer the principal posts in the royal household to be occupied by the Scotch. He appointed sir George Carew to the post of queen's chamberlain. Her majesty persisted in retaining Kennedy.

On

The queen's household was to be settled at Berwick, in order that the English might behold her with all the accustomed retinue pertaining to queen-consorts. But the queen, and her husband, could not agree regarding the persons who were to be appointed; the queen kept sending a number of applicants to be confirmed in places, which her royal spouse had destined for other persons. His majesty swore awfully at the arrival of every one of the queen's candidates; but, when Kennedy presented himself, to be confirmed as chamberlain, he flew into a still more ludicrous passion. He bade him "Begone!" assuring him, at the same time, "that if he caught him carrying the chamberlain's staff before his wife, he should take it out of his hand, and break it across his pate."1 which intimation of the royal intentions, Kennedy very prudently made the best of his way back again to Scotland. The duke of Lenox, who had taken much thankless pains in travelling backwards and forwards, with the laudable endeavour of arranging her majesty's household to the king's satisfaction, received a severe rating on this occasion, and was sent to the borders, to inform the queen, "that his majesty took her continued perversity very heinously." In fact, Henry VIII. would have cut off the heads of two or three wives, for a tithe of the contumacity her majesty, queen Anne, had been pleased to display, since she had become queen of England. She was, however, perfectly aware of the disposition of her man, and of her own power over him, and arrived at Berwick, with the full intention of settling her household of ladies, according to her own good pleasure, if she could not have her own way in regard to her chamberlain.

At Berwick, she found waiting her arrival, the earls of Sussex and Lincoln, and sir George Carew, who was to be her chamberlain, the countesses of Worcester and Kildare, and the ladies Scrope, Rich, and Walsingham, but not one of these would the queen appoint to her service. She only accepted lady Bedford, and lady Harrington, who had travelled all the way to Edinburgh, of their own accord, to pay their duty to her. It was the king's intention to have met the queen at York, but either his displeasure continued, at her contrary temper, or she moved forward quicker than he anticipated, for the meeting did not not occur till she had advanced to the midland counties.

'Lodge's Illustrations of British History, vol. iii. p. 12.

Silver cups, heaped with gold angels, were the propitiations with which the northern cities welcomed the queen and family of their new sovereign. Queen Anne, her son, and daughter, were received in York with solemn processions of the lord Mayor, and civic authorities. They stayed there during the Whitsuntide, and when they left the city June 15th, were conducted on the road to Grimston, by the corporation of York, in their robes. The royal party took their way through Worksop, Newark, and Nottingham, being splendidly entertained at each of these places. At Dingley, near Leicester, the seat of sir Thomas Griffin, her majesty tarried for some time, as this was the appointed place for her parting with her daughter Elizabeth, who was to go from thence to Combe Abbey, near Coventry, the seat of the Harringtons. It was to Dingley, that the celebrated Anne Clifford, heiress of the earldom of Cumberland, came to pay her homage to her new queen. This lady seemed to have brought with her a considerable stock of north of England prejudices against the Scotch, for she affirms, that while waiting to pay her respects to the king in the royal ante-chamber, which was guarded by sir Thomas Erskine, she and her party were infested with insects of a class in entomology too disreputable to be named in modern times, either by word of mouth or book. The fair Clifford, however, called the creatures by their ugly names, without any such scruples.

"About this time," says Anne Clifford, in her journal," my aunt of Warwick went to meet the queen, having Mistress Bridges with her, and my cousin, Mistress Anne Vavasour. Then my mother and I went on our journey, and killed three horses that day with the extremity of the heat." At Rockingham Castle, the Cliffords met the countess of Bedford, who was so great a woman with the queen, that every one much respected her," she having attended her majesty from Scotland. The next day they were presented to the queen, at Dingley, "which was the first time," continues Anne Clifford, "I ever saw her majesty and prince Henry, where she kissed us all, and used us kindly." Queen Anne's court had increased prodigiously during her journey. Lady Suffolk, lady Derby, and lady Walsingham, came to pay their duty to her at Dingley.

On the morning of the 25th of June, the queen parted from her daughter Elizabeth, who left Dingley in company with her governesses, lady Kildare and lady Harrington, for Combe Abbey, near Coventry, the seat of lord Harrington, where she resided during her youth, and completed her education.

The following letter, without date, written to king James by the queen during this progress, is the first she wrote in England. Her letters, though short, are all holographs, or written throughout with her own hand. It will be recollected, that in James's admirable letter of remonstrance to her, written during her pettish behaviour, he had properly requested, that when she wrote to him she would employ no secretary but herself. There is always to be found a shade of familiar playfulness in Anne's little notes, without she was in a very bad temper indeed; and this letter shows she had regained her good-humour:

64

My heart,

QUEEN ANNE TO KING JAMES.

"I am glad that Haddington hath told me of your majesty's good health, which I wish to continue.

"As for the blame you charge me with, of lasie writing, I think it rather rests on yourself, because you be as sloe in writing as myself. I can write of no mirth but of practice of tilting, of riding, of drumming, and of music, which is all, wherewith I am not a little pleased.

"So, wishing your majesty perpetual happiness, I kiss your majesty's hand, and rest your ANNA R."

The next station of the royal progress was Althorpe, where an exquisite fête, aided by all the ideality of Ben Jonson's genius, was in course of preparation, to welcome the queen. No painted canvas, or coarse theatrical illusions, accompanied this first masque of the mighty master. The scenery was the magnificent woodlands of an English park; instead of boards, was the velvet green-sward under foot; and in the place of evil-smelling lamps, the glorious lights of heaven beamed down, through a midsummer night, on the Masque of the Fairies. The queen, the heir of England, and the heir of Spencer, were themselves part of the dramatis personæ in this poetic welcome. Never, never more can our island behold the like; the world has grown too old-too hard-too much addicted to bitter sneering, to permit poetry to blend thus exquisitely with historical reality, in our days.

The queen rested, during the heat of the day, at the antique royal palace of Holdenby, which she examined.' The intense heat of that midsummer forced the royal party to proceed, in the cool of the evening, to Althorpe. "That night," says Anne Clifford, "we went along with the queen's train, in which was an infinite number of coaches." Four miles from Northampton, they arrived at Althorpe. As the royal cortêge advanced through the park, concerts of wind instruments played at various stations; and as they approached a copse of young wood near the gardens, the Masque of the Fairies was commenced by a satyr, perched in a tree, who thus expressed himself:

"Here, there, and everywhere,
Some solemnities are near;

As these changes strike mine ear,
My pipe and I a part will bear."

He then leaped down from the tree, and peered in the faces of prince Henry and the queen; then resumed

"That is Cyparissus' face,

And the dame hath Syrinx grace

Sure they are of heavenly race."

He then hid himself in the wood again, while, to the sound of soft music. hidden in the copse, a bevy of fairies and their queen (who were acted by the fairest young ladies of Northamptonshire) appeared, and after dancing various roundels on the park-sward, queen Mab addressed her majesty

'Here were curious figures of giants among the ornaments, like those at Guild hall; but giants, palace, and all, were demolished by Cromwell and is destruc

"Hail and welcome, fairest queen!
Joy hath never perfect been
To the fays that haunt this green,
Had they not this evening seen.
Now they print it on the ground,
With their feet, in figures round,
Marks which ever will be found."

The satyr peeped out of the thicket, and interrupted Mab by saying

to the queen

"Trust her not, you bonni-belle,

She will forty leasings tell.

Queen Mab. Satyr, we must have a spell

For your tongue it runs too fleet.
I do know your pranks right well.
Satyr. Not so nimbly as your feet,

When, about the cream-bowls sweet,
You and all your elves do meet.
This is Mab, the mistress fairy,
That doth nightly rob the dairy.
She can start our franklins' daughters

In their sleep with shrieks and laughters,

And on sweet St. Agnes' night

Feed them with a promised sight-
Some of husbands, some of lovers,

Which an empty dream discovers;

And in hopes that you would come here,
Yester eve, the lady Summer,1

She invited to a banquet.

Fairy. Mistress, this is only spite,

For you would not, yesternight,

Kiss him at the cock-shut light.

Queen Mab. Fairies, pinch him black and blue!
Now you have him, make him rue."

The fairies pinched him, and he ran away, crying for mercy, into the wood. Queen Mab then addressed her majesty:

"Pardon, lady, this wild strain,
Common to the sylvan train
That do skip about this plain.—

Elves, apply to your gyre again;

And whilst some do hop the ring,

Some shall play, while some shall sing
Oriana's welcoming.

SONG TO THE QUEEN.

This is she, this is she,
In whose world of grace,
Every season, person, place
That receives her, happy be.
For with no less

Than a kingdom's happiness

Doth she our households bless,

And ours above the rest.

'From these lines, it appears that Anne of Denmark was expected at Althorpe on Midsummer eve, but did not come till the evening of Midsummer day.

Long live Oriana

T'exceed (whom she succeeds) our late Diana."

The masque then led to the desirable incident of presenting the queen with a jewel, which was thus elegantly effected :—

Queen Mab. Madam, now, an end to make,

Deign a simple gift to take,
Only for the fairies' sake,

Who about you still shall wake.
'Tis done only to supply
His impaired courtesy,

Who, since Thamyra did die,
Hath not brook'd a lady's eye,
Nor allow'd about his place
Any of the female race;
Only we are free to trace

All his grounds, as he to chase;
For which bounty to us lent

Of him, un knowledged or unsent,

We prepared this compliment."

Mab then presented her majesty with the jewel; and after due warr ing that fairy-gifts were never to be mentioned, she and her elves performed fantastic roundels, and departed into the thicket, with these words:

"Highest, happiest queen, farewell!

But be sure you do not tell."

The satyr, on the departure of his fair enemies, then skipped out of the wood, and, after some preamble, introduced the heir of sir Robert Spencer, a boy of twelve years old, leading a dog at the head of a troop of young foresters, the sons of the neighbouring gentry, dressed in hunters' garb. The youthful lord was presented to prince Henry, and made obeisance to his royal guests, while the satyr pronounced these words :— "See, for instance, where he sends

His son, his heir, who humbly bends
Low as is his father's earth,

To the queen that gave you birth.
Rise up, sir, I will betray

All I think you have to say:

That your father gives you here

(Freely as to him you were)
To the service of this prince;

And with you these instruments
Of his wild and sylvan trade.

The bow was Phoebe's, and the horn
By Orion often worn.

'Ben Jonson, the poet of Anne of Denmark, celebrated her under the names of Oriana and Bellanna; by "our late Diana," he alluded to queen Elizabeth.

The grief of sir Robert Spencer, for the loss of his beloved consort Thamyra, the daughter of sir Francis Willoughby, thus beautifully alluded to by Ben Jonson, was no poetic fiction. He had lost her in 1597: she left him several children; but though he survived her thirty years, he never made a second choice. Sir Robert Spencer was ennobled soon after this elegant reception of the queen; he is supposed to have been absent at this juncture. See Nichols' Progresses of James I., vol. i., p. 182, for the whole of this rare masque.