I was working on a history paper today and found a book from 1826 that seemed promising (though dull) for my topic, on an English Catholic familyβs experience moving to France.
And it ended up not really being suitable for my purposes, as it goes. But part of the book is actually devoted to Kenelm, the authorβs oldest sonβ¦and man, his dad loved him.
Kenelm seems to have had a fairly typical upbringing for a young English gentleman, although he is a bit slow to read. At twelve heβs sent to board at Stoneyhurst Collegeβoften the big step towards independence in a boyβs life, as heβll most likely only see his parents sporadically from now on, and then leave for university.
When heβs sixteen, however, his father moves the whole family to France, so Kenelm gets pulled out of school to be with them again. Shortly after the move, his dad notices that he seems depressed. Kenelm confides in him that heβs been suffering from βscruplesβ for the last eighteen monthsβmost likely what weβd now call an anxiety disorder.
And his dad is pissedβat the school, because apparently Kenelm had been seeking help there and received none, despite obviously struggling with mental health issues. So his dad takes it seriously. He sets him up to be counseled by a priestβthere were no therapists back thenβand doesnβt send him away to be boarded again, instead teaching him at home himself.
And his mental health does improve. His dad describes him as well-liked, gentle, pious, kind and eager to please others; at twenty heβs thinking about a career in diplomacy or going into the militaryβwhich his dad thinks he is not particularly suited for, considering his favorite pastimes are drawing and reading. Heβs excited about his familyβs upcoming move to Italy, and heβs been busy learning Italian and teaching it to his siblings.
Henry Kenelm Beste dies of typhus at twenty years, four months, and twenty-five days. Thatβs how his dad records it. Thatβs why his dad is telling this story. Itβs not an extraordinary storyβKenelmβs story struck me because he sounds soβ¦ordinary, like so many kids today. And he was so, so loved. His dad tried hard to help him compassionately with his mental health at a time where our current knowledge and support systems didnβt exist. You can feel how badly he wanted his son to be remembered and loved, to impress how dearly beloved he was to the people who knew him in life.
I hope heβd be glad to know someone is still thinking of Kenelm over 200 years later.
Anyway, thatβs why Iβm crying today.
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