Connecticut western news., 1873-09-19
THE WHITE ROSE OF YORK.

THE WHITE ROSE OF YORK.
 More than three centuries agol I
 an apartment of the Beauchamp Towe,
 London, young maiden seems busil
 at work over her books. Her table
 covered with folios in the Latin Ian
 guage. A simple white dress falls il
 ample folds around the tall,, slende
 form at the neck is broad, pointe,
 lace collar; the sleeves are made il
 puffs. Nothing can compare with tn
 exquisite delicacy of the neck ant
 hands. The magnificent golden-aubur1
 hair IS wound in 8 heavy coil at tn,
 back of the head ;. but over brow ant
 temples, and behind the small ears, i
 nipples in numberless tiny ringlets Ik.
 the sunbeams. Golden also are tht
 lashes of the deep-blue eyes. The ex
 pression of the face is firm rather thar
 gentle /; the forehead is that of a soyer
 elgn the nose is aquiline but around
 the lips at this moment plays a smile ot
 unutterable sweetness, and the glance
 says: :" am happy, for-I lovel'
 The maiden writes eagerly on loose leaf which lies in the volume before her, and 1t is verses she inscribes upon it.
 This young poetess is the daughter of Henry VIII. and of the lovely, unfortu- nate Anre Boleyn Elizabeth of Eng land, sister of the reigning queen, Mary. Now she lays down the pen hastily fo Ids the little sheet, conceals it Tn her dress, and resumes her melan- choly but favorite place in the deep wlndow-niche, where for hours long she has been standing. T
 The o6o fl little apartment, which in the brightest sunshine does not lose it's sombre character, for it is " "strong chamber |" of the Tower! The young girl gazes dreamily out, over the massive walls and dark giant buildings to the river, on whose glassy surface the ships are lazlly floating up and down and further, further on to the great gate of the Tower and the road leading to Lon- don. There it was she had first. seen hlm-hin7; the man who had become the happiness and the misery of her young life. Fresh and glowing as if it had been but yesterday, that supreme moment again rose before her soul. Let us recall 1t for the reader.
 Mary, the newl y-crowned queen, had descended from her white pa1frey before that fatal gate, and there the most dis tlRguished prisoner in the Tower awaited her, Edward Ceurtenay, hoping to receive from her word of grace. In the glittering retinue of the sovereign. among all those nobles, pages, and beautiful ourt-dames, was a young girl. the most simply clad of all, who wore white rose ill her girdle, the Princess Elizabeth. The eyes of this maiden hung as If spellbound upon the form of the youth who was already kneeling be- fore the queen to implere the grace he yearned for. He was the grandson of the Princess Catharine, the proud daughter of Edward w., this young Edward Courtenay; who, in his twelfth 1 year, immediately after his. fathers death, the Count of Devonshire had l brought to the Tower and there, in the tumult of that troubled time, he had l been forgotten.
 They had from earliest ages been re- nowned for their beauty and bravery. | the sons of this old race; and it was | plain to see that this young prisoner of | twenty-five years had inherited the | beauty in his fullest measure. His mo- ble, regular features were deathly pale l at this moment an expression of deep est melancholy lay in his large, dark | eyes. The brown hair fell in floating | curls over his shoulders, and the proud | grace of his bearing enchanted ali.
 The queen bowed low to him. Then | she passed in her trailing crimson vel | vet dress along the row of prisoners, now and then extending her hand to | one, and saluting all with friendly, | gracious words. As she came back and | again stood before Edward Courtenay, something like 8 gleam of tenderness passed over her hard face.
 And what wish you, my poor cousin ?' she asked.
 me is freedom" he replied, and bowed over her hand.
 It is already yours. This very hour shall be the hour of your freedom and your fortune Have confidence in your queen"
 And, to the astonishment of all, Mary bent low and kissed the kneeling SUD- plant upon his beautiful forehead.
 At this moment horse took fright that of the Princess Elizabeth, who. with breathless attention, had followed this scene. The horse rushed forward the young girl uttered low cry. In the midst of the confusion that ensued, Edward Courtenay seized the bridle of the rearing 'steed with so firm hand that the animal trembled beneath that powerful grasp and stood motionless.
 The white rose slipped from the maiden $ girdle, and fell at the young mans feet-a silent thank-ofering. He took 1t in his hand, looked up, and the next moment his glance sank in the blue sea of two beautiful eyes.
 Poor, and yet happy Courtenay The hour of freedom was for thee but the beginning of eternal bondage! Love for the sister of his queen, with ire sistible power, took possession of his soul. -
 The time passed. Edward Courtenay was about the court, its most cherished courtler. For the queen herself was enamored of her handsome cousin, and, from the hour of their first meeting. so distinguished him, that soon throueh- out the realm people began to speak of the fair prospect Edward Courtenav had of sharing the throne with Catholic Mary. And there was not one who would not gladly have seen the crown upon his youthful head, as a recom- pense for those long, dreary years of imprisonment. It was only in whispers they dared link his name with that of the young Princess Elizabeth.
 But that first passion had laid hold of Courtenay's heart, and in the blissful consciousness that it was fully returned