A KING'S DIARY

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22670, 6 March 1937, Page 9 (Supplement)

A KING'S DIARY

King Henry earner back from a tournament with his beautiful queen, Elizabeth. Tall, with long hair, and of a fair complexion, she was dressed very much like the Queen of Hearts on a pack of cards. A diamond-shaped hood, ~ sewn with pearls, framed her golden hair, which she wore flowing over rich damask robes. The King himself, King Henry the Seventh, whose face was set and grave, most pleasing when he spake, was very grand, too, with a massive gold chain round his neck, a black berretino cap, clasped with a great red ruby, on his head and a long, magnificent robe of purple velvet, furred with ermine, opening over other splendours, and showing off to advantage his slender, well-made figure. But these grandeurs were only meant for great occasions. The King had known what adversity was, in the days before he came to the throne of England. Thrifty Henry called his attendants to him, with their badges of red and white roses. His fine clothes were laid carefully away in chests. The darned and faded garments which the King wore when at home were brought out. He felt easier, more like himself, in them. He did not feel that he was wasting money wearing costly raiment.

He then wanted to write in his journal—for Henry had a passion for keeping a diary, or spy book, one might almost call it. It was full of his thoughts and secret observations concerning the people of the Court. It can be imagined that the people round Henry did not love his journals very much. Indeed, his courtiers and nobles hated those " pensive accounts." They felt he was watching them safely in the shadow. But wherever the King went a diary followed him, well guarded, too. Where was the chief of his v dianes the King wished to know. He had something important he wanted to write in it. There it lay on a table, put down by chance and forgotten for a moment. Henry advanced toward it, but his pet monkey was quicker still. Pug seized the book and bounded up the arras with it. At first he sat on a high ledge, poring into the journal, as he had seen liis master do, and then the rascal began slowly and deliberately to tear all the precious pages into little pieces, and, not content with that, to shower them down upon the King, who could do nothing. . All the nobles burst out laughing, for everyone thought it a most merry jest, except Henif.