In this way, the royal cavalcade passed through Tottenham, where a large assemblage was collected, and where numerous clerks and priests were stationed near the High Cross, bearing censers, with which they censed the young king as he rode by. Other villages succeeded, and brought fresh crowds, fresh greetings, more priests, and more censing. Fortunately, as we have already mentioned, the day was extremely fine, so the procession lost none of its effect.
Ere long, the ancient, and at that time most picturesque City of London came fully in view, protected by its grey walls, only to be entered through its gates, and remarkable for its many churches, amidst which the lofty spire of old Saint Paul’s was proudly conspicuous. Joyously were the bells ringing in all these churches; but deepest and loudest in tone, and plainly distinguished above the rest, were the great bells of the cathedral. Bombards, falconets, and sakers were likewise discharged from the city walls and gates. Greatly pleased by these sounds, the youthful monarch smiled graciously, as Sir Thomas Seymour told him it was evident that his loyal subjects, the good citizens of London, meant to give him a hearty welcome.
Crossing Finsbury fields, the cavalcade entered the city by Bishopsgate. There a short pause occurred, the young king being met by the lord mayor—hight Henry Hubblethorne—and the civic authorities, and being obliged to listen to an oration, to which he replied. Acclamations greeted him on all hands as he rode slowly through Bishopsgate-street Within, and blessings were showered upon his head. Not perhaps expecting so much enthusiasm, or at all events unaccustomed to such a display of it towards himself, the young sovereign was much moved; but he nevertheless acknowledged the hearty reception given him with infinite grace, bowing repeatedly right and left. His youth and gentle deportment won every heart, and all hoped that a prince so gracious and full of promise might meet with good counsellors. Time had not allowed much preparation to be made for the young king’s passage through the city, but several of the houses were gaily hung with pieces of tapestry and cloths of gold and silver, while embroidered cushions were set in the windows, from which comely citizens’ wives and their blooming daughters looked down upon the fair young king, and on his handsome uncle.
Near the church at the top of Gracechurch Street, Edward was met by a solemn procession from Saint Paul’s, consisting of a number of persons carrying silver crosses, the priests and choir of the cathedral in their vestments and robes, followed by several of the city companies in their liveries.
As the royal cavalcade proceeded along Fenchurch Street, the popular enthusiasm increased, until the clamor became almost deafening, and the crowd pressed so much upon the young monarch, that it was with difficulty he could move on. However, the kindly tone in which he besought those nearest him to stand back, opened a way for him almost as readily as the halberds of the yeomen of the guard could clear it. The Earl of Hertford, who ever courted popular applause, smiled upon the crowd in vain. Attention was exclusively directed to the new king, and to the splendid-looking personage who immediately followed him; and it would be difficult to say which of the two was most admired, though doubtless far the greater amount of interest attached to Edward. But Hertford had the mortification of finding himself completely overlooked at a moment when he especially desired to be an object of attention.
Amid these manifestations of general enthusiasm and delight, which could not fail to be gratifying to him, Edward reached Tower Hill, where the populace was kept within due limits by a strong detachment of the mounted city guard. Here the ancient palace-fortress of his predecessors, wherein his august father had commenced his reign, and wherein he himself was about to keep his court for a while and hold his councils, burst upon his youthful gaze. No sooner was the young king discerned by those upon the watch for his coming, than from the summit of the White Tower burst forth a thundering welcome. The ordnance on the wharf before the fortress, on Traitors’ Gate, on the By-ward Tower, on the barbican and the bastions, followed, and the roar was prolonged by the guns of the ships moored close at hand in the river.