The Prince and the Pauper
a thing unusual.
By his own request our small friend was now conducted to his private
cabinet, and left there alone to his own devices. Hanging upon hooks in
the oaken wainscoting were the several pieces of a suit of shining steel
armour, covered all over with beautiful designs exquisitely inlaid
in gold. This martial panoply belonged to the true prince--a recent
present from Madam Parr the Queen. Tom put on the greaves, the
gauntlets, the plumed helmet, and such other pieces as he could don
without assistance, and for a while was minded to call for help and
complete the matter, but bethought him of the nuts he had brought away
from dinner, and the joy it would be to eat them with no crowd to eye
him, and no Grand Hereditaries to pester him with undesired services;
so he restored the pretty things to their several places, and soon was
cracking nuts, and feeling almost naturally happy for the first time
since God for his sins had made him a prince. When the nuts were all
gone, he stumbled upon some inviting books in a closet, among them one
about the etiquette of the English court. This was a prize. He lay down
upon a sumptuous divan, and proceeded to instruct himself with honest
zeal. Let us leave him there for the present.
CHAPTER VIII. The Question of the Seal.
About five o’clock Henry VIII. awoke out of an unrefreshing nap, and
muttered to himself, “Troublous dreams, troublous dreams! Mine end is
now at hand: so say these warnings, and my failing pulses do confirm
it.” Presently a wicked light flamed up in his eye, and he muttered,
“Yet will not I die till _He_ go before.”
His attendants perceiving that he was awake, one of them asked his
pleasure concerning the Lord Chancellor, who was waiting without.
“Admit him, admit him!” exclaimed the King eagerly.
The Lord Chancellor entered, and knelt by the King’s couch, saying--
“I have given order, and, according to the King’s command, the peers of
the realm, in their robes, do now stand at the bar of the House, where,
having confirmed the Duke of Norfolk’s doom, they humbly wait his
majesty’s further pleasure in the matter.”
The King’s face lit up with a fierce joy. Said he--
“Lift me up! In mine own person will I go before my Parliament, and
with mine own hand will I seal the warrant that rids me of--”
His voice failed; an ashen pallor swept the flush from his cheeks; and
the attendants eased him back upon his pillows, and hurriedly assisted
him with restoratives. Presently he said sorrowfully--
“Alack, how have I longed for this sweet hour! and lo, too late it
cometh, and I am robbed of this so coveted chance. But speed ye, speed
ye! let others do this happy office sith ’tis denied to me. I put my
Great Seal in commission: choose thou the lords that shall compose it,
and get ye to your work. Speed ye, man! Before the sun shall rise and
set again, bring me his head that I may see it.”
“According to the King’s command, so shall it be. Will’t please your
majesty to order that the Seal be now restored to me, so that I may
forth upon the business?”
“The Seal? Who keepeth the Seal but thou?”
“Please your majesty, you did take it from me two days since, saying it
should no more do its office till your own royal hand should use it upon
the Duke of Norfolk’s warrant.”
“Why, so in sooth I did: I do remember. . . . What did I with it?...
I am very feeble. . . . So oft these days doth my memory play the
traitor with me. . . . ’tis strange, strange--”
The King dropped into inarticulate mumblings, shaking his grey head
weakly from time to time, and gropingly trying to recollect what he
had done with the Seal. At last my Lord Hertford ventured to kneel and
offer information--
“Sire, if that I may be so bold, here be several that do remember with
me how that you gave the Great Seal into the hands of his highness the
Prince of Wales to keep against the day that--”
“True, most true!” interrupted the King. “Fetch it! Go: time flieth!”
Lord Hertford flew to Tom, but returned to the King before very long,
troubled and empty-handed. He delivered himself to this effect--
“It grieveth me, my lord the King, to bear so heavy and unwelcome
tidings; but it is the will of God that the prince’s affliction abideth
still, and he cannot recall to mind that he received the Seal. So came
I quickly to report, thinking it were waste of precious time, and
little worth withal, that any should attempt to search the long array of
chambers and saloons that belong unto his royal high--”
A groan from the King interrupted the lord at this point. After a
little while his majesty said, with a deep sadness in his tone--
“Trouble him no more, poor child. The hand of God lieth heavy upon him,
and my heart goeth out in loving compassion for him, and sorrow that I
may not bear his burden on mine old trouble-weighted shoulders, and so
bring him peace.”
He closed his eyes, fell to mumbling, and presently was silent. After
a time he opened his eyes again, and gazed vacantly around until his
glance rested upon the kneeling Lord Chancellor. Instantly his face
flushed with wrath--
“What, thou here yet! By the glory of God, an’ thou gettest not about
that traitor’s business, thy mitre shall have holiday the morrow for
lack of a head to grace withal!”
The trembling Chancellor answered--
“Good your Majesty, I cry you mercy! I but waited for the Seal.”
“Man, hast lost thy wits? The small Seal which aforetime I was wont
to take with me abroad lieth in my treasury. And, since the Great Seal
hath flown away, shall not it suffice? Hast lost thy wits? Begone!
And hark ye--come no more till thou do bring his head.”
The poor Chancellor was not long in removing himself from this dangerous
vicinity; nor did the commission waste time in giving the royal assent
to the work of the slavish Parliament, and appointing the morrow for the
beheading of the premier peer of England, the luckless Duke of Norfolk.
CHAPTER IX. The river pageant.
At nine in the evening the whole vast river-front of the palace was
blazing with light. The river itself, as far as the eye could reach
citywards, was so thickly covered with watermen’s boats and with
pleasure-barges, all fringed with coloured lanterns, and gently agitated
by the waves, that it resembled a glowing and limitless garden of
flowers stirred to soft motion by summer winds. The grand terrace of
stone steps leading down to the water, spacious enough to mass the army
of a German principality upon, was a picture to see, with its ranks
of royal halberdiers in polished armour, and its troops of brilliantly
costumed servitors flitting up and down, and to and fro, in the hurry of
preparation.
Presently a command was given, and immediately all living creatures
vanished from the steps. Now the air was heavy with the hush of
suspense and expectancy. As far as one’s vision could carry, he might
see the myriads of people in the boats rise up, and shade their eyes
from the glare of lanterns and torches, and gaze toward the palace.
A file of forty or fifty state barges drew up to the steps. They were
richly gilt, and their lofty prows and sterns were elaborately carved.
Some of them were decorated with banners and streamers; some with
cloth-of-gold and arras embroidered with coats-of-arms; others with
silken flags that had numberless little silver bells fastened to them,
which shook out tiny showers of joyous music whenever the breezes
fluttered them; others of yet higher pretensions, since they belonged to
nobles in the prince’s immediate service, had their sides picturesquely
fenced with shields gorgeously emblazoned with armorial bearings. Each
state barge was towed by a tender. Besides the rowers, these tenders
carried each a number of men-at-arms in glossy helmet and breastplate,
and a company of musicians.
The advance-guard of the expected procession now appeared in the great
gateway, a troop of halberdiers. ‘They were dressed in striped hose of
black and tawny, velvet caps graced at the sides with silver roses, and
doublets of murrey and blue cloth, embroidered on the front and back
with the three feathers, the prince’s blazon, woven in gold. Their
halberd staves were covered with crimson velvet, fastened with gilt
nails, and ornamented with gold tassels. Filing off on the right and
left, they formed two long lines, extending from the gateway of the
palace to the water’s edge. A thick rayed cloth or carpet was
then unfolded, and laid down between them by attendants in the
gold-and-crimson liveries of the prince. This done, a flourish of
trumpets resounded from within. A lively prelude arose from the
musicians on the water; and two ushers with white wands marched with a
slow and stately pace from the portal. They were followed by an officer
bearing the civic mace, after whom came another carrying the city’s
sword; then several sergeants of the city guard, in their full
accoutrements, and with badges on their sleeves; then the Garter
King-at-arms, in his tabard; then several Knights of the Bath, each with
a white lace on his sleeve; then their esquires; then the judges, in
their robes of scarlet and coifs; then the Lord High Chancellor of
England, in a robe of scarlet, open before, and purfled with minever;
then a deputation of aldermen, in their scarlet cloaks; and then the
heads of the different civic companies, in their robes of state. Now
came twelve French gentlemen, in splendid habiliments, consisting of
pourpoints of white damask barred with gold, short mantles of
crimson velvet lined with violet taffeta, and carnation coloured
hauts-de-chausses, and took their way down the steps. They were of the
suite of the French ambassador, and were followed by twelve cavaliers of
the suite of the Spanish ambassador, clothed in black velvet, unrelieved
by any ornament. Following these came several great English nobles with
their attendants.’
There was a flourish of trumpets within; and the Prince’s uncle, the
future great Duke of Somerset, emerged from the gateway, arrayed in a
‘doublet of black cloth-of-gold, and a cloak of crimson satin flowered
with gold, and ribanded with nets of silver.’ He turned, doffed
his plumed cap, bent his body in a low reverence, and began to step
backward, bowing at each step. A prolonged trumpet-blast followed, and
a proclamation, “Way for the high and mighty the Lord Edward, Prince of
Wales!” High aloft on the palace walls a long line of red tongues of
flame leapt forth with a thunder-crash; the massed world on the river
burst into a mighty roar of welcome; and Tom Canty, the cause and hero
of it all, stepped into view and slightly bowed his princely head.
He was ‘magnificently habited in a doublet of white satin, with a
front-piece of purple cloth-of-tissue, powdered with diamonds, and edged
with ermine. Over this he wore a mantle of white cloth-of-gold, pounced
with the triple-feathered crest, lined with blue satin, set with pearls
and precious stones, and fastened with a clasp of brilliants. About his
neck hung the order of the Garter, and several princely foreign orders;’
and wherever light fell upon him jewels responded with a blinding flash.
O Tom Canty, born in a hovel, bred in the gutters of London, familiar
with rags and dirt and misery, what a spectacle is this!
CHAPTER X. The Prince in the toils.
We left John Canty dragging the rightful prince into Offal Court, with
a noisy and delighted mob at his heels. There was but one person in it
who offered a pleading word for the captive, and he was not heeded; he
was hardly even heard, so great was the turmoil. The Prince continued
to struggle for freedom, and to rage against the treatment he was