"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."[49] 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 south-east door of the Abbey, where it was met by the great lords of the Council, the Heralds, and chief officers of the court, the