le in Warwickshire,
from the widow of the famous Earl of Leicester. And in the same year
King James gave his son another house connected closely with the story
of Leicester and Amy Robsart--Woodstock Manor in Oxfordshire. But the
prince's days were numbered, and as far as we know he never visited his
new purchase of Kenilworth. His health was not in a satisfactory state
in this year of 1612, and he was careless about it. While he was staying
at his palace of Richmond in June, he took great delight in swimming in
the Thames after supper on the warm summer evenings; a most dangerous
practice for any one. His attendants besought him to give it up. But
he, like most of the Stuarts, was fond of his own way. He was deaf to
all entreaties, and went on with his swimming. He also took much
pleasure in walking beside the Thames in the moonlight, "to hear the
sound and echo of the trumpets," regardless of the evening dews which
rose cold and damp along the river. Then in exceedingly hot weather, he
made a desperate journey on horseback, of ninety-six miles in two days,
from Richmond to Belvoir Castle, to meet the king who was on a great
progress--riding sixty miles the first day in nine hours. The progress
ended at Woodstock, where the prince entertained his father and mother
and Princess Elizabeth, after making several hasty and fatiguing
journeys thither to see that all was in order in his new manor. He then
returned to Richmond and busied himself with preparations for the coming
of the young Elector Palatine, on whose marriage with Princess Elizabeth
all Henry's hopes were fixed.

[Illustration: WESTMINSTER ABBEY FROM THE NORTH.]

The Elector arrived. But already Prince Henry was seriously ill. However
his "pluck," as we should say now, carried him on for a time. He removed
with his court to St. James's to receive the young Elector, for whom he
conceived a great friendship. He even played a tennis match with his
future brother-in-law on the twenty-fourth of October. But the next day
he was much worse, and could with difficulty manage to go to church (it
was a Sunday), and dine afterwards with the king. This was the last time
he went out; for in the afternoon he was seized with sudden faintness
and sickness and had to take his leave. That night he was in a burning
fever. The ignorant physicians of those days mismanaged him hopelessly.
Some of their remedies to lower the fever sound almost too absurd to be
treated seriously--suc