In this quarter were situated some of the oldest and most curious habitations in the metropolis. The streets were narrow, the houses lofty, with high roofs and quaintly-carved gables, each story projecting beyond the other, so that the occupants of the higher rooms could almost shake hands with their opposite neighbors; but with all these objections, and many others that might be raised to them, there can be no doubt that these ancient structures were highly picturesque in appearance, and that to an artist, the London of the sixteenth century would have been preferable to the London of our own era.
Down precipitous Ludgate Hill, with its houses climbing to the skies, as we have described, and almost meeting above, across Fleet Bridge—the space on either side of the stream being thronged by spectators—did the splendid cavalcade move on.
Here again, the scene was striking and picturesque, and immeasurably in favor of Old London. On the banks of the Thames, on the left, stood Baynard’s Castle, a vast and stern-looking structure; further on, on the same side, was the ancient palace of Bridewell. On the right, amidst a host of quaint old buildings, was the large and gloomy prison which took its name from the little river that washed its walls.
At Temple Bar, the Lord Mayor and aldermen, who had accompanied the procession from Cheapside, took their leave, and the cavalcade moved at a somewhat quicker pace along the Strand.
Here fresh crowds welcomed the young monarch, and greetings as hearty and enthusiastic as those he had received in the city saluted him. Though the houses were not so richly set forth as those of the wealthy goldsmiths of Lombard street, still there was no lack of decoration—and arras and painted hangings were plentiful enough.
Amid cheers and blessings the young king reached Charing Cross, and passing through the beautiful gate of Whitehall, then but recently erected, immediately afterwards dismounted at the principal entrance of the palace.
Somewhat fatigued by his ride, which, owing to the many delays, had occupied nearly four hours, and anxious to reserve his forces for the morrow, Edward withdrew to his own chamber, and did not appear again on that day.
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Chapter VI
HOW KING EDWARD VI. WAS CROWNED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY
Within the ancient abbey of Westminster, where his sire and grandsire had been crowned, and where so many of his predecessors had been consecrated and anointed kings, all needful preparations were made for the youthful Edward’s coronation.
In the midst of the choir, and opposite the high altar, was reared a lofty stage, the floor of which was covered with rich carpets, and the sides hung with cloth of gold. Two-and-twenty broad steps led to the summit of this stage from the west, but the descent to the altar comprised little more than half that number. The altar itself made a magnificent show, being covered with vessels of silver and gold, and having a gorgeous valance decked with jewels. The ancient tombs of King Sebert, Aymer de Valence, and Edmund Crouchback, were shrouded with curtains of golden arras. Many other parts of the choir were similarly decorated, as were the noble pillars in the body of the edifice, which were partially covered with red and white velvet, and hung with banners and escutcheons.
At an early hour in the morning, all the approaches to the abbey were thronged by thousands eager to gain admission, and before eight o’clock every available position in the vast building, not reserved for those about to be engaged in the solemnity, was occupied.
About nine o’clock, the sense of tediousness which had begun to afflict the assemblage was somewhat relieved by the appearance of the choristers. These were attired in their copes, and had six large silver crosses with them. Next came forth the children of the king’s chapel, arrayed in scarlet, with surplices and copes. Then appeared the chaplains in surplices and grey amices, who were followed, after a short interval, by ten bishops, mitred, clothed in scarlet, with rochets and copes, and each carrying a crosier. After another short pause, the Archbishop of Canterbury himself appeared, mitred likewise, and in his full pontificals, and having his crosses borne before him.