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 suffering, until John Canty lost
what little patience was left in him, and raised his oaken cudgel
in a sudden fury over the Prince’s head. The single pleader for
the lad sprang to stop the man’s arm, and the blow descended upon
his own wrist. Canty roared out–
“Thou’lt meddle, wilt thou? Then have thy reward.”
His cudgel crashed down upon the meddler’s head: there was a
groan, a dim form sank to the ground among the feet of the crowd,
and the next moment it lay there in the dark alone. The mob
pressed on, their enjoyment nothing disturbed by this episode.
Presently the Prince found himself in John Canty’s abode, with the
door closed against the outsiders. By the vague light of a tallow
candle which was thrust into a bottle, he made out the main
features of the loathsome den, and also the occupants of it. Two
frowsy girls and a middle-aged woman cowered against the wall in
one corner, with the aspect of animals habituated to harsh usage,
and expecting and dreading it now. From another corner stole a
withered hag with streaming grey hair and malignant eyes. John
Canty said to this one–