MARK
TWAIN
^^fe
-^-
* NY PUBLIC LIBRARY THE BRANCH LIBRARIES
.... . ., .
3 3333 10841 6435
WORKS BY MARK TWAIN.
The PRINCE and the PAUPER: a Tale for Young People
fall Ages, I'.y MAKK TWAIN-. With One Hundred and Ninety
Illustration-.
The CHOICE WORKS of MARK TWAIN. Revised and
Corrected throughout by the Author. With Life, Portrait, and
numerous Illustrations. Crown Svo. cloth extra, is. ( ,/
The ADVENTURES of TOM SAWYER. P,y MARK T\VAIN.
With 100 Illustrations. Square Svo. cloth extra, 7$. 6d.
' ' Uso a CHEAP EDITION, in illustrated boards, at 3*.
A PLKAM'RK TRIP on the CONTINENT of EUROPE :
I INNOCENTS Al'.RCiAD, and The NEW PILGRIM'S
I'R' Mi !<!>>. My MAKK TWAIN. Po-t Svo. illustrated boards, zs.
An IDLE EXCURSION, and other Sketches. By MARK
TWAIN. Post Svo. illustrated boards, 2$.
The
[NNOCENTS ABROAD; or, The New Pilgrim's
Progress. Being some Account of the Steamship ' Quaker City's '
Pleasure Excursion to Europe and the Holy Land ; with Descriptions
of Countries, Nations, Incidents, and Adventures as they appeared
to the Author. With Two hundred and thirty-four Illustrations. By
MAKK TWAIN.
A
TRAMP ABROAD. Illustrated by W. F. Brown, True
Williams, B. Day, and other Artists with also three or four Pictures
made by the Author of the Book without outside help ; in all, Three
hundred and fourteen Illustrations. By MARK TWAIN. Cloth Svo.
cloth extra, js. 6d.
' The fun and tenderness of tJie conception, of -which ru> living man but
Mark f-vain is capable, its grace and fantasy and slyness, the wonderful
feeling for animals that is manifest in erery line, make of all this episode
of Jim Baker and his jays a piece of -work that is not only delightful as
mere reading, but also of a high degree of merit as literature. . . . The
book is full of good things, and contains passages and episodes that are
equal to the funniest of those that have gone before.' ATHEN/EUM.
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY, W.
HUGH LATIMER, IJISHOP OF WORCESTER, TO LORD CROMWELL,
ON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES
(AFTERWARD EDWARD VI.).
From the National Manuscripts preserved ly the British Government.
HUGH LATIMKU, r.ISHOP OF WORCESTER, TO LORD CROMWELL,
(>X THE BIRfH OF THE PRINrK oK WALES
(AFTERWARD EDWARD VI.).
From t/f Suti-'iial M'inu.-ript* preservd by the British Government.
Ryght honorable, ,SW //,//, /',, ('lu-lato JV.s", and Syr here ys no lease
joynge and rejossynge in thes partees for the byrth of our prynce,
liooin we hungurde for so longe, then ther was (I trow), i)it<T /V'O'/MW
att the byrth <>f S. I. Baptyste, as thys berer, Master Erance, can telle
yon. Gode '_ f yttt.' us alle grace, to yelde dew thankes to our Lorde
Gode. Gode of Iii'^londe, for verely He hathe shoyd Hyni selff Gode
of Inglonde, or rather an Inglyssh Gode, yf we consydyr and pondyr
welle alle Hys procedyiiLCi 1 -; with us from tyme to tyuie. He hath
o\vreimnne alle our yllnesse with Hys excedynge goodnesse, so that
we ar now moor tlu-n eonipellyd to serve Hyni, seke Hys glory,
proinott Hys wurde, yf the Devylle of ulle Devylles be natt in us.
We have now the stooppe of vayne trust. * ande the stey of vayne
expectations ; k-tt us alle pray for hys preservatione. Ande I for my
partt wylle \\ yssh that hys Grace allways have, and evyn now from the
begynynge, Govemares, Instructores and offyceres of ryght jugmente,
hi ofitiiHiini i it'll Hi n ,,i ,/,,/j nj,fii,i<l nliiciitlni,'- ilijn'iivfur.
Butt whatt a grett fowlle iim I ! So, whatt devotione shoyth many
tymys l)utt lytelle dyscretione ! Ande thus the Gode of Inglonde be
ever with you in alle your procedynges.
The 10 of October.
Youres, H. L. B. of Wurcestere, now att Hartlebury.
Yf you wolde excytt thys berere to be moore hartye ay en the
abuse of ymagry or mor forwards to promotte the veryte, ytt myght
doo goode. Natt that ytt came of me, butt of your selffe, &c.
(Addressed)
To the Ryght Honorable Loorde P. Sealle hys synguler gode Lorde.
THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER
<Jl gale for Uouucj people of Jill
BY
MARK TWA I N
ll'ITH ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY ILLUSTRATIONS
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1882
[All rights reserved]
TO
i.oOD-MANNERED AND AGREEABLE CHILDREN
SUSIE AND CLAKA CLEMENS
IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED
BY
THEIR FATHER
I WILL set down a talo as it wan told to me by one wlm had it of his
liit her, which latter Jiad it of //?> father, this last having in like manner
had it of his father and so on, back and .-till back, three hundred
years and more, the fathers transmitting it to the sons and so preserving
it. It may be history, it may be only a legend, a tradition. It may
have happened, it may not have happened : but it could have hap-
pened. It may be that the wise and the learned believed it in the old
days ; it may be that only the unlearned and the simple loved it and
credited it.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE BIRTH OK THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER .... 1
II. TOM'S EARLY LIFE 5
III. TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE . . . . . .15
IV. THE PRINCE'S TROUBLES BEGIN . . . . . . . 27
V. TOM AS A PATRICIAN ........ 35
VI. TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS . . . . . . . . 51
VII. TOM'S FIRST ROYAL DINNER. 65
VIII. THE QUESTION OF THE SEAL . . . . . . . 73
IX. THE EITER PAGEANT ........ 79
X. THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS . . . . . . . . 85
XI. AT GUILDHALL . .101
XII. THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVERER. Ill
XIII. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PRINCE 129
XIV. " LE Eoi EST MORT VITE LE Eoi " 139
XV.- TOM AS KING ... 157
XVI. THE STATE DINNER . . . . . . . . 173
XVII. Foo-Foo THE FIRST . . 181
XVIII. THE PRINCE -WITH THE TRAMPS 201
XIX. THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS 215
XX. THE PRINCE AND THE HEBMIT 225
XXI. HENDON TO THE RESCUE 237
XXII. A VICTIM OF TREACHERY 247
xii CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
XXIII. THE PRINCE A PRISONER 259
XXIV. THE ESCAPE . . 267
XXV. HENDON HALL 275
XXVI. DISOWNED 289
XXVII. IN PRISON . 297
XXVIII. THE SACRIFICE 313
XXIX. To LONDON .... .321
XXX. TOM'S PROGRESS .... 327
XXXI. THE EECOGNITION PROCESSION . 333
XXXII. CORONATION DAY . . . ., 345
XXXIII. EDWARD AS KING . . . 363
CONCLUSION. JUSTICE AND KETRIBUTIOX 377
NOTES 383
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
THE GREAT SEAL . .
"SPLENDID PAGEANTS AND GREAT
BONFIRES" ....
OFFAL COURT .....
'WITH ANY MISERABLE CRUST " .
" HE OFTEN READ THE PRIEST'S
BOOKS" .....
"SAW POOR ANNE ASKEW
BURNKD" . . . .
"BROUGHT THEIR PERPLEXITIES
TO TOM" .....
" LONGING FOR THE PORK-PIES" .
AT TEMPLE BAR" . . .
'LET HIM IN!" . . . .
-HOW OLD BE THESE?" . . .
' DOFF THY RAGS, AND DON THESE
SPLENDOXTIS" . . .
" I SALUTE YOUR GRACIOUS HlGH-
NESS!
"
UPON BY DOGS". . .
" A DRUNKEN RUFFIAN COLLARED
HIM" .....
-'NEXT HE DREW THE SwORD " .
" RESOLVED TO FLY " . . .
'THE BOY WAS ON HIS KNEES" .
" GREAT XOBLES WALKED UPON
EACH SIDE OF HIM" . . .
''HE DROPPED UPON HIS KNEES ".
" HE TURNED WITH JOYFUL FACE "
" THE PHYSICIAN BOWED LOW " .
" THE KING FELL BACK UPON HIS
COUCH''
3
8
9
10
12
13
14
17
20
22
21
26
31
33
3"
38
39
41
42
44
4o
46
PAGE
" Is THIS MAN TO LIVE FOR EVER ? " 47
" PRITHEE, INSIST NOT" . . 53
' THE LORD ST. JOHN MADE RE-
YEKKNCK" 55
HERTFORD AND THE PRINCESSES . 56
"SHE MADE REVERENCE" . . 59
" OFFERED IT TO HIM ON A GOLDEN-
SALVER " .... 60
"THEY MUSED A WHILE". . . 62
"PEACE, MY LORD, THOU UTTEREST
TREASON!" . . . .63
"HE BEGAN TO PACE THE FLOOR" 64
" FASTENED A NAPKIN ABOUT HIS
NECK" 67
" TOM ATE WITH HIS FlNGERS " . 69
" HE GRAVELY TOOK A DRAUGHT" 70
" TOM PUT ON THE GREAVES" . . 71
"THE ATTENDANTS EASED HIM
BACK UPON HIS PlLLOWS " . 76
; 'A TROOP OF HALBERDIERS AP-
PEARED IN THE GATEWAY " . 82
" TOM CANTY STEPPED INTO VIEW" 84
" A DIM FORM SANK TO THE
GROUND" 87
" WHO ART THOU ?" . . . . 89
" SENT HIM STAGGERING INTO
GOODWIFE CANTY'S ARMS" . 91
" SHE BENT HEEDFULLY AND WARILY
OVER HIM " . . . .93
"THE PRINCE SPRANG UP" . . 90
" HURRIED HIM ALONG THE DARK
WAY" , 96
XIV
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
"HE WASTED NO TIME" . . . 98
"A RICH CANOPY OF STATE" . 104
"BEGAN TO LAY ABOUT HIM" . .107
"LONG LIVE THE KlNG ! " . . 108
" OUR FRIENDS THREADED THEIR
WAY" 114
"OBJECT LESSONS" IN ENGLISH
HISTORY . . . .116
" JOHN CANTY MOVED OFF" . .117
" SMOOTHING BACK THE TANGLED
CURLS" 119
"PRITHEE, POUR THE WATER" . 121
"Go ON TELL ME THY STORY" . 122
" THOU HAST BEEN SHAMEFULLY
ABUSED" 125
"HE DROPPED ON ONE KNEE " . 126
" KISE, SIR MILES HENDON,
KNIGHT" 128
"Hs DROPPED ASLEEP" . .132
" THESE BE VERY GOOD AND
SOUND" 133
"EXPLAIN, THOU LIMB OF SATAN" 135
"HENDON FOLLOWED AFTER HIM" 137
" WlLT DEIGN TO DELIVER THY
COMMANDS?" . . . . 142
" THE FIRST LORD OF THE BED-
CHAMBER RECEIVED THE HOSE" 144
" A SECRETARY OF STATE PRE-
SENTED AN ORDER" . . .147
" THE BOY ROSE, AND STOOD AT
GRACEFUL EASE" . . .149
"'TlS I THAT TAKE THEM" . .151
" IF YOUR MAJESTY WILL BUT TAX
YOUR MEMORY" . . .154
'* TOM HAD WANDERED TO A WlN-
DOW" 161
" TOM SCANNED THE PRISONERS" . 163
"LET THE PRISONER GO FREE!" . 167
" WHAT is IT THAT THESE HAVE
DONE?" 168
" SEVERAL OLD HEADS NODDED
THEIR EECOGNITION ". . .169
"A GENTLEMAN BEARING A ROD" 176
" THE CHANCELLOR BETWEEN TWO" 177
PAGE
"I THANK YE, MY GOOD PEOPLE" 178
" HE MARCHED AWAY IN THE
MIDST OF HIS PAGEANT". . 179
" THK RUFFIAN FOLLOWED THEIR
STEPS" 184
"HE SEIZED A BILLET OF WOOD" 185
" HE WAS SOON ABSORBED IN
THINKING" . . . .187
" A GRIM AND UNSIGHTLY PIC-
TURE " 188
' THEY ROARED OUT A ROLLICKING
DITTY" 190
"WHILST THE FLAMES LICKED UP-
WARDS" 191
" THEY WERE WHIPPED AT THE
CART'S TAIL" . . .193
"Tnou SHALT NOT" . . . 195
" KNOCKING HOBBS DOWN" . .196
"THRONE HIM" . . . . 198
" THE TROOP OF VAGABONDS SET
FORWARD" .... 203
" THEY THREW BONES AND VEGE-
TABLES" . . . . . 205
"BEGAN TO WRITHE AND WALLOW
IN THE DIRT" . . .207
" THE KING FLED IN THE OPPOSITE
DIRECTION" . ... 208
"HE STUMBLED ALONG" . .210
" WHAT SEEMED TO BE A WARM
ROPE" 212
" CUDDLED UP TO THE CALF" . 213
" TOOK A GOOD SATISFYING
STARE" 218
"THE CHILDREN'S MOTHER RE-
CEIVED THE KING KINDLY" . 220
" BROUGHT THE KING OUT OF HIS
DREAMS ' 222
" GAVE HIM A BUTCHER KNIFE TO
GRIND" 224
" HE TURNED AND DESCRIED TWO
FIGURES " 227
""THE KING ENTERED AND
PAUSED" .... 229
"I WILL TELL YOU A SECRET" . 231
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
xv
PAGE !
" CHATTING PLEASANTLY ALL THE
Tons" 233
"DREW HIS THUMB ALONG THE
KDGE" 235
" THK NKXT MOMENT THKY WERE
BOUND " . . . . 236
SINK VPON HIS KNII-" . . 241
" THEN FOLLOWED A CONFUSION OF
KICKS AND PLUNGINGS" . . 243
' THE FETTERED LITTLE KING " . _' H
" HUGO STOOD NO CHANCE". . 250
" Hl'GO BOUND THE PoULTICK
TIGHT AND FAST " . . . 253
"TARRY HERE TILL I COME
AGAIN" 2-14
"Tub KIM; SPRANG TO ins DELI-
VERER'S SIDE" . . . . 256
"GENTLY. GOOD FRIEND" . . 'J(i2
"SHE M'RANG TO HER FEET " . . -<>4
"THE Pit; M \v COST THEE THY
NECK, .MAX". . . . i'7o
" BEAR ME UP, BEAR ME UP, SWEET
SIB!" 272
" JOGGING EASTWARD ON SORRY
SI-FEDS" . . . .278
' THERE is THE VILLAGE, MY
PRINCE!" 280
'EMBRACE MH, HUGH,' HE
CRIED!" 281
" HUGH PUT UP HIS HAND IN
DISSENT" 283
" A BEAUTIFUL LADY, RICHLY
CLOTHED, FOLLOWED HUGH " . 285
' HUGH WAS PINNED TO THE
WALL" 287
'OBEY, AND HAVE NO FEAR" . . 292
' AM I MILES HENDON ? " . . 295
CHAINED IN A LARGE ROOM" . 300
" THE OLD MAN LOOKED HENDON
OVER" 302
" INFORMATION DELIVERED IN A
Low VOICE". . . 303
" ' THE KING ! ' HE CRIED, ' WHAT
KING?'" . . 305
PAGE
"Two WOMEN CHAINED TO
POSTS " 308
"TORN AWAY BY THE OFFICERS". 310
'THE KING WAS FURIOUS" . .311
"HE CONFRONTED THE OFFICER IN
CHARGE" . . . .316
' WHILE THE LASH WAS APPLIED,
THE POOR KlM I TURNED AWAY
HIS FAI i " . . . . 31 S
"Sm HUGH SPURRED AWAY" . 319
"HENDON MOUNTED AND RODE OFF
WITK THE KIM; " . . . 324
''IN THE MIDST OF A JAM OF
UONVMNG PEOPLE" . . . 325
" To Kiss HIS HAND AT PART-
ING" 330
"COMMANDED HER TO GO TO HER
CLOSET" 331
THK START FOR THE TOWER . . 335
"WELCOME, KING!" . .337
"A LARGESS! A LARGESS!" . . 338
"SHE WAS AT HIS SIDE" . . 340
: MY LIEGE, IT is AN ILL TIME
FOR DREAMING" . . . 342
" SHE WAS MY MOTHER " . . 343
" GATHERS UP THE LADY'S LONG
TRAIN" 348
"ToM CANTY APPEARED" . . 350
" AND FELL ON HIS KNEES BEFORE
HIM" 358
"THE GREAT SEAL FETCH IT
HITHER " 355
' SIRE, THE SEAL is NOT THERE" 357
"BETHINK THEE, MY KING" . 358
" LONG LIVE THE TRUE KING ! " . 361
"To CRACK NUTS WITH" . . 362
" HE STRETCHED HIMSELF ON THE
GROUND " 367
"ARRESTED AS A SUSPICIOUS
CHARACTER " . . . .369
"!T is HIS EIGHT". . . . 372
"STRIP THIS ROBBER" . . 373
" TOM ROSE AND KISSED THE KlNG's
HAND" . 374
THE quality of mercy . . .
is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes ;
Tis mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
Merchant of Venice.
,
CHAPTER I.
THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER.
IN* the ancient city of London, on a certain
autumn day in the second
quarter of the sixteenth
century, a boy was born
to a poor family of the
name of Canty, who
did not want him. On
the same day another v* A v .
English child was 1 . .ni ' wk ' ^
to a rich family of the
C*-^ - "" *-~
name of Tudor, who ?^'_
did want him. All
England wanted him
too. England had so
longed for him, and
hoped for him, and
prayed God for him,
that, now that he was
really come, the people
SPLENDID
went nearly mad for GREAT
ioy. Mere acquaint-
ances hugged and kissed each other ;
Everybody took a holiday, and high
rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang, and
B 2
4 THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER.
got very mellow ; and they kept this up for days and nights together.
By day, London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every
balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along. By night, it
was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner, and its
troops of revellers making merry around them. There was no talk in
all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales,
who lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not
knowing that^great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over
him and not caring, either. But there was no talk about the other
baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of
paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence.
^feifii^.r'
CHAPTER II.
TOM'S EARLY LIFE.
LET us skip a number of years.
London was fifteen hundred years old, and was a great town for
that day. It had a hundred thousand inhabitants some think double
as many. The streets were very narrow, and crooked, and dirty,
especially in the part where Tom Canty lived, which was not far from
London Bridge. The houses were of wood, with the second story pro-
jecting over the first, and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the
second. The higher the houses grew, the broader they grew. They
were skeletons of strong criss-cross beams, with solid material between,
coated with plaster. The beams were painted red or blue or black,
according to the owner's taste, and this gave the houses a very pictur-
esque look. The windows were small, glazed with little diamond-
shaped panes, and they opened outward, on hinges, like doors.
The house which Tom's father lived in was up a foul little pocket
called Offal Court, out of Pudding Lane. It was small, decayed, and
rickety, but it was packed full of wretchedly poor families. Canty's
tribe occupied a room on the third floor. The mother and father had
a sort of bedstead in the corner ; but Tom, his grandmother, and his
two sisters, Bet and Nan, were not restricted they had all the floor
to themselves, and might sleep where they chose. There were the
remains of a blanket or two, and some bundles of ancient and dirty
straw, but these could not rightly be called beds, for they were not
8
TOM'S EARLY LIFE.
organised ; they were kicked into a general pile, mornings, and selec-
tions made from the
mass at night, for ser-
vice.
Bet and Nan were
fifteen years old
twins. They were
good-hearted girls, un-
clean, clothed in rags,
and profoundly igno-
rant. Their mother
was like them. But
the father and the
grandmother were a
couple of fiends. They
got drunk whenever
they could ; then they
fought each other or
anybody else who
>,/
&? came in the way ; they
__ cursed and swore ai-
ways, drunk or sober ;
John Canty was a
thief, and his mother
a beggar. They made
beggars of the chil-
dren, but failed to
make thieves of them.
Among, but not of,
the dreadful rabble
that inhabited the
house, was a good old
x: priest whom the King
OFFAL COURT. had turned out of
TOM'S EARLY LIFE. 9
house and home with a pension of a few farthings, and he used to
get the children aside and teach them right ways secretly. Father
Andrew also taught Tom a little Latin, and how to read and write ;
and would have done the same with the girls, but they were afraid of
the jeers of their friend.s, who could not have endured such a queer
accomplishment in them.
All Offal Court was just such another hive as Canty's house.
Drunkenness, riot and brawling were the order, there, every night and
nearly all night long. Broken heads were as common as hunger in
WITH ANY MISERABLE CRUST.
that place. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of
it, but did not know it. It was the sort of time that all the Offal
Court boys had, therefore he supposed it was the correct and comfort-
ble thing. When he came home empty-handed at night, he knew his
father would curse him and thrash him first, and that when he was
done the awful grandmother would do it all over again and improve
on it ; and that away in the night his starving mother would slip to
him stealthily with any miserable scrap or crust she had been able to
save for him by going hungry herself, notwithstanding she was often
caught in that sort of treason and soundly beaten for it by her husband.
10
TOM'S EARLY LIFE.
No, Tom's life went along well enough, especially in summer. He
only begged just enough to save himself, for the laws against mendi-
cancy were stringent, and the penalties heavy ; so he put in a good
" HE OFTEN HEAD THE PRIEST'S BOOKS."
deal of his time listening to good Father Andrew's charming old tales
and legends about giants and fairies, dwarfs and genii, and enchanted
castles, and gorgeous kings and princes. His head grew to be full of
these wonderful things, and many a night as he lay in the dark on his
TOM'S EARLY LIFE. 11
scant and offensive straw, tired, hungry, and smarting from a thrash-
ing, he unleashed his imagination and soon forgot his aches and pains
in delicious picturings to himself of the charmed life of a petted prince
in a regal palace. One desire came in time to haunt him day and night :
it was to see a real prince, with his own eyes. He spoke of it once to
some of his Offal Court comrades ; but they jeered him and scoffed him
so unmercifully that he was glad to keep his dream to himself after that.
He often read the priest's old books and got him to explain and en-
large upon them. His dreamings and readings worked certain changes
in him, by-and-by. His dream-people were so fine that he grew to
lament his shabby clothing and his dirt, and to wish to be clean and
better clad. He went on playing in the mud just the same, and enjoy-
ing it, too ; but instead of splashing around in the Thames solely for
the fun of it, he began to find an added value in it because of the wash-
ings and cleansings it afforded.
Tom could always find something going on around the Maypole in
Cheapside, and at the fairs ; and now and then he and the rest ol
London had a chance to see a military parade when some famous un-
fortunate was carried prisoner to the Tower, by land or boat. One
summer's day he saw poor Anne Askew and three men burned at the
stake in Smithfield, and heard an ex-Bishop preach a sermon to them
which did not interest him. Yes, Tom's life was varied and pleasant
enough, on the whole.
By-and-by Tom's reading and dreaming about princely life wrought
such a strong effect upon him that he began to act the prince, uncon-
sciously. His speech and manners became curiously ceremonious and
courtly, to the vast admiration and amusement of his intimates. But
Tom's influence among these young people began to grow, now, day by
day ; and in time he came to be looked up to, by them, with a sort of
wondering awe, as a superior being. He seemed to know so much \
and he could do and say such marvellous things ! and withal, he was
so deep and wise ! Tom's remarks, and Tom's performances, were re-
ported by the boys to their elders ; and these, also, presently began to
discuss Tom Canty, and to regard him as a most gifted and extra-
TOM'S EARLY LIFE.
ordinary creature. Full-grown people brought their perplexities to
Tom for solution, and were often astonished at the wit and wisdom of
- ' H^L'.J I /Ji && ^*ii-t &&*,
his decisions. In
come a hero to all
except his own
only, saw nothing
Privately, after %
ganised a royal
the prince ; his
were guards,
equerries, lords
ing, and the royal
fact he was be-
who knew him
family these,
in him.
a while, Tom or-
court! He was
special comrades
chamberlains,
and ladies in wait-
family. Daily the
mock prince was "SAW POOR ANNE ASKEW BURNED." received with
elaborate cere- monials borrowed
by Tom from his romantic readings ; daily the great affairs of the
mimic kingdom were discussed in the royal council, and daily his
TOM'S EARLY LIFE.
mimic highness issued decrees to his imaginary armies, navies, and
viceroyalties.
After which, he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings,
eat his poor crust, take his customary cuffs and abuse, and then stretch
himself upon his handful of foul straw, and resume his empty grandeurs
in his dreams.
And still his desire to look just once upon a real prince, in the
flesh, grew upon him, day by day, and week by week, until at last it
absorbed all other desires,
and became the one passion '^
of his life.
One January day, on
his usual begging tour, he
tramped despondently up and
down the region round about
Mincing Lane and Little
East Cheap, hour after hour,
bare-footed and cold, looking
in at cook-shop windows and
longing for the dreadful
pork-pies and other deadly
inventions displayed there-
for to him these were dain-
ties fit for the angels ; that
is, judging by the smell,
they were for it had never
been his good luck to own and eat one. There was a cold drizzle of
rain ; the atmosphere was murky ; it was a melancholy day. At night
Tom reached home so wet and tired and hungry that it was not possible
for his father and grandmother to observe his forlorn condition and not
be moved after their fashion ; wherefore they gave him a brisk cuffing
at once and sent him to bed. For a long time his pain and hunger, and
the swearing and fighting going on in the building, kept him awake ;
but at last his thoughts drifted away to far, romantic lands, and he fell
BROUGHT THEIR PERPLEXITIES TO TOM.
14
TOM'S EARLY LIFE.
asleep in the company of jewelled and gilded princelings who lived
in vast palaces, and had servants salaaming before them or flying
to execute
And then, as
dreamed that
prin celing
All night
glories of his
shone upon
moved a-
lords and
blaze of light,
per fum es,
delicious
answering the re-
the glittering throng
way for him, with
there a nod of his
And when he
ing and looked upon
about him, his
LONGING FOE THE PORK-PIES.
their orders,
usual, he
he was a
himself,
long the
royal estate
him; he
mong great
ladies, in a
breathing
drinking in
music, and
verent obeisances of
as it parted to make
here a smile, and
princely head,
awoke in the morn-
the wretchedness
dream had had its
usual effect it had intensified the sordidness of his surroundings a
thousandfold. Then came bitterness, and heart-break, and tears.
17
CHAPTER III.
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE.
TOM got up hungry, and sauntered hungry away, but with his
thoughts busy with the shadowy splendours of his night's dreams. He
. I
A
______
_.--- - '- - *- ^ --- ^^jgs=ai. ^^^ ,i\ ft
rn==F i ij MW .
ilk "i,
>' - - v - ^"^~ v/^
AT TEMPLE BAE."
^ wandered here and
there in the city,
hardly noticing where he was
going, or what was happening
ff-Sfl around him. People jostled him,
// ->. I and some gave him rough speech ;
but it was all lost on the musing
boy. By and by he found himself
at Temple Bar, the farthest from
c
18 TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE.
home he had ever travelled in that direction. He stopped and considered
a moment, then fell into his imaginings again, and passed on outside the
walls of London. The Strand had ceased to be a country-road then,
and regarded itself as a street, but by a strained construction; for,
though there was a tolerably compact row of houses on one side of it,
there were only some scattering great buildings on the other, these
being palaces of rich nobles, with ample and beautiful grounds stretch-
ing to the river grounds that are now closely packed with grim acres
of brick and stone.
Tom discovered Charing Village presently, and rested himself at
the beautiful cross built there by a bereaved king of earlier days ; then
idled down a quiet, lovely road, past the great cardinal's stately palace,
toward a far more mighty and majestic palace beyond "Westminster.
Tom stared in glad wonder at the vast pile of masonry, the wide-
spreading wings, the frowning bastions and turrets, the huge stone
gateway, with its gilded bars and its magnificent array of colossal
granite lions, and other the signs and symbols of English royalty.
Was the desire of his soul to be satisfied at last ? Here, indeed, was a
king's palace. Might he not hope to see a prince now a prince of
flesh and blood, if Heaven were willing ?
At each side of the gilded gate stood a living statue that is to say,
an erect and stately and motionless man-at-arms, clad from head to
heel in shining steel armour. At a respectful distance were many
country folk, and people from the city, waiting for any chance glimpse
of royalty that might offer. Splendid carriages, with splendid people
in them and splendid servants outside, were arriving and departing by
several other noble gateways that pierced the royal enclosure.
Poor little Tom, in his rags, approached, and was moving slowly and
timidly past the sentinels, with a beating heart and a rising hope, when
all at once he caught sight through the golden bars of a spectacle that
almost made him shout for joy. Within was a comely boy, tanned and
brown with sturdy out-door sports and exercises, whose clothing was
all of lovely silks and satins, shining with jewels; at his hip a little
jewelled sword and dagger ; dainty buskins on his feet, with red heels ;
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRIXCi:. 19
and on his head a jaunty crimson cap, with drooping plumes fastened
with a great sparkling gem. Several gorgeous gentlemen stood near
his servant?, without a doubt. Oh ! he was a prince a prince, a living
prince, a real prince without the shadow of a question ; and the prayer
of the pauper-boy's heart was answered at last.
Tom's breath came quick and short with excitement, and his eyes
grew big with wonder and delight. Every thing gave way in his mind
instantly to one desire : that was to get close to the prince, and have a
good, devouring look at him. Before he km-w what he was about, he
had his face against the crate-bars. The next instant one of the soldiers
O * -
snatched him rudely away, and sent him spinning among the gaping
crowd of country gawks and London idlers. The soldier said,
"Mind thy manners, thou young beggar ! '
The crowd jeered and laughed ; but the young prince sprang to the
gate with his face ilushrd, and his eyes Hashing with indignation, and
cried out,
" How dar'st thou use a poor lad like that ! How dar'.st thou use the
King rny lather's meanest subject so ! Open the gates, and let him in ! "
You should have seen that fickle crowd snatch off their hats then.
You should have heard them cheer, and shout, " Long live the Prince
of Wales ! "
The soldiers presented arms with their halberds, opened the gates,
and presented again as. the little Prince of Poverty passed in, in his
fluttering rags, to join hands with the Prince of Limitless Plenty.
Edward Tudor said
" Thou lookest tired and hungry : thou'st been treated ill. Come
with me."
Half a dozen attendants sprang forward to I don't know what ;
interfere, no doubt. But they were waved aside with a right royal
gesture, and they stopped stock still where they were, like so many
statues. Edward took Tom to a rich apartment in the palace, which
he called his cabinet. By his command a repast was brought such as
Tom had never encountered before except in books. The prince, with
princely delicacy and breeding, sent away the servants, so that his
c2
20
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE.
humble guest might not be embarrassed by their critical presence ;
then lie sat near by, and asked questions while Tom ate.
" What is thy name,
lad ? "
"Tom Canty, an' it
please thee, sir."
" 'Tis an odd one.
Where dost live ? "
FT.tf-
LET HIM IN.
In the city, please thee, sir. OfFal Court, out of Pudding Lane."
OfFal Court ! Truly 'tis another odd one. Hast parents ? '
TOM'S MEKTIXCl WITH THE PPIXCi:. 21
" Parents have I, sir, and a grand-dam likewise that is but indiffer-
ently precious to me, God forgive me if it be offence to say it also
twin sisters, Nan and Bet."
" Then is thy grand-dam not over kind to thee, I take it."
" Neither to any other is she, so please your worship. She hath a
wicked heart, and worketh evil all her days."
" Doth she mistreat thee ? '
" There be times that she stayeth her hand, being asleep or over-
come with drink ; but when she hath her judgment clear again, she
maketh it up to me with goodly beatings."
A fierce look came into the little prince's eyes, and he cried out
" What ! Beatings ? "
" Oh, indeed, yes, please you, sir."
"Beatings! and thou so frail and little. Hark ye: before the
night come, she shall hie her to the Tower. The King my father"
" In sooth, you forget, sir, her low degree. The Tower is. for the
great alone."
" True, indeed. I had not thought of that. I will consider of her
punishment. Is thy father kind to thee ? '
" Not more than Gammer Canty, sir."
V '
" Fathers be alike, mayhap. Mine hath not a doll's temper. He
smiteth with a heavy hand, yet spareth me : he spareth me not always
with his tongue, though, sooth to say. How doth thy mother use
thee ? "
" She is good, sir, and giveth me neither sorrow nor pain of any
sort. And Nan and Bet are like to her in this."
" How old be these ? "
"Fifteen, an' it please you, sir."
" The Lady Elizabeth, my sister, is fourteen, and the Lady Jane
Grey, my cousin, is of mine own age, and comely and gracious withal ;
but my sister the Lady Mary, with her gloomy mien and Look
you : do thy sisters forbid their servants to smile, lest the sin destroy
their souls ? "
" They ? Oh, dost think, sir, that they have servants ? ):
22
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE.
The little prince contemplated the little pauper gravely a moment,
then said
" And prithee, why not ? Who helpeth them undress at night ?
Who attire th them when they rise ? '
" None, sir. Wouldst have them take off their garment, and sleep
without like the beasts ? '
" Their garment ! Have they but one ? '
" Ah, good your worship, what would they do with more ? Truly
they have not two bodies each."
"HOW OLD BE THESE?"
" It is a quaint and marvellous thought ! Thy pardon, I had not
meant to laugh. But thy good Kan and thy Bet shall have raiment
and lackeys enow, and that soon, too : my cofferer shall look to it.
No, thank me not ; 'tis nothing. Thou speakest well ; thoti hast an
easy grace in it. Art learned ? "
" I know not if I am or not, sir. The good priest that is called
Father Andrew taught me, of his kindness, from his books."
" Know'st thou the Latin ? "
" But scantly, sir, I doubt."
TOM'S MEETING U'/TV/ THE PllIXCE. 23
" Learn it, lad : 'tis hard only at first. The Greek is harder ; but
neither these nor any tongues else, I think, are hard to the Lady Eliza-
beth and my cousin. Thou shouldst hear those damsels at it ! But
tell me of thy Offal Court. Hast thou a pleasant life there ? '
" In truth, yes, so please you, sir, save when one is hungry. There
be Punch. and- Judy shows, and monkeys oh such antic creatures !
and so bravely dressed ! and there be plays wherein they that play
do shout and fight till all are slain, and 'tis so fine to see, and costeth
but a farthing albeit ? tis main hard to get the farthing, please your
worship."
" Tell me more."
" We lads of Offal Court do strive against each other with the
cudgel, like to the fashion of the 'prentices, sometimes."
The prince's eyes flashed. Said he
Marry, that would not I mislike. Tell me more."
" We strive in races, sir, to see who of us shall be fleetest."
" That would I like also. Speak on."
' In summer, sir, we wade and swim in the canals and in the river,
and each doth duck his neighbour, and splatter him with water, and
dive and shout and tumble and "
" 'T would be worth my father's kingdom but to enjoy it once !
Prithee go on."
' We dance and sing about the Maypole in Cheapside ; we play in
the sand, each covering his neighbour up ; and times we make mud
pastry oh the lovely mud, it hath not its like for delightfulness in
all the world ! we do fairly wallow in the mud, sir, saving your
worship's presence."
" Oh, prithee, say no more, 'tis glorious ! If that I could but
clothe me in raiment like to thine, and strip my feet, and revel in the
mud once, just once, with none to rebuke me or forbid, meseemeth I
could forego the crown ! '
" And if that I could clothe me once, sweet sir, as thou art clad
just once "
Oho, w r ould'st like it ? Then so shall it be. Doff thy rags, and
(t
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE.
don these splendours, lad ! It is a brief happiness, but will be not less
keen for that. We will have
it while we may, and change
again before any come to mo-
lest."
A few minutes later the
little Prince of Wales was gar-
landed with Tom's fluttering
odds and ends, arid the little
Prince of Pauperdoni was
tricked out in the gaudy
' DOFF THY RAGS, AND DON THESE SPLENDOURS."
plumage of royalty. The two went and
stood side by side before a great mirror,
and lo, a miracle : there did not seem to
have been any change made ! They stared
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PR IXC E. 25
at each other, then at the glass, then at each other again. At last the
puzzled princeling said
" What dost thou make of this ? "
" Ah, good your worship, require me not to answer. It is not meet
that one of my degree should utter the thing."
" Then will / utter it. Thou hast the same hair, the same eyes, the
same voice and manner, the same form and stature, the same face and
countenance that I bear. Fared we forth naked, there is none could
say which was you, and which the Prince of Wales. And, now that 1
.am clothed as thou wert clothed, it seemeth I should be able the more
nearly to feel as thou didst when the brute soldier Hark ye, is not
this a bruise upon your hand ? '
" Yes ; but it is a slight thing, and your worship knoweth that the
man-at-arms "
"Peace ! It was a shameful thins and a cruel ! " cried the little
-
prince, stamping his bare foot. "If the King Stir not a step till
I come again ! It is a command ! '
In a moment he had snatched up and put away an article of
national importance that lay upon a table, and was out at the door
and flying through the palace grounds in his bannered rags, with a hot
face and glowing eyes. As soon as he reached the great gate, he
seized the bars, and tried to shake them, shouting
" Open ! Unbar the gates ! '
The soldier that had maltreated Tom obeyed promptly ; and as
the prince burst through the portal, half-smothered with royal wrath,
the soldier fetched him a sounding box on the ear that sent him whirl-
ing to the roadway, and said
" Take that, thou beggar's spawn, for what thou got'st me from his
Highness ! '
The crowd roared with laughter. The prince picked himself out
of the mud, and made fiercely at the sentry, shouting
" I am the Prince of Wales, my person is sacred ; and thou shalt
hang for laying thy hand upon me ! '
TOM'S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE.
The soldier brought his
halberd to a present-arms and
said mockingly
" I salute your gracious
Highness."
Then angrily
" Be off, thou crazy rub-
bish ! "
Here the jeering crowd
closed around the poor little
prince, and hustled him far
down the road, hooting him,
and shouting
" Way for his royal High-
ness ! Way for the Prince of
Wales ! "
' I SALUTE YOUR GRACIOUS HIGHNESS ! "
BGG R
29
CHAPTER IV.
TIII-: PKIXCL'S TROUBLES BEGIN.
AFTER hours of persistent pursuit and persecution, the little prince
was at last deserted by the rabble and left to himself. As long as he-
had been able to rage against the mob, and threaten it royally, and
royally utter commands that were good stuff to laugh at, he was very
entertaining ; but when \veariness finally forced him to be silent, he
was no longer of use to his tormentors, and they sought amusement
elsewhere. He looked about him, now, but could not recognise the
locality. He was within the city of London that was all he knew.
He moved on, aimlessly, and in a little while the houses thinned, and
the passers-by were infrequent. He bathed his bleeding feet in the
brook which flowed then where Farringdon Street now is; rested a few
moments, then passed on, and presently came upon a great space with
only a few scattered houses in it, and a prodigious church. He recog-
nised this church. Scaffoldings were about, everywhere, and swarms
of workmen ; for it was undergoing elaborate repairs. The prince
took heart at once he felt that his troubles were at an end, now.
He said to himself, " It is the ancient Grey Friars' Church, which the
king rny father hath taken from the monks and given for a home for
ever for poor and forsaken children, and new-named it Christ's Church.
Right gladly will they serve the son of him who hath done so gener-
ously by them and the more that that son is himself as poor and as
forlorn as any that be sheltered here this day, or ever shall be."
He was soon in the midst of a crowd of boys who were running,
jumping, playing at ball and leap-frog, and otherwise disporting them-
30 THE PRINCE'S TROUBLES BEGIN.
selves, and right noisily, too. They were all dressed alike, and in the
fashion which in that day prevailed among serving-men and 'prentices l
that is to say, each had on the crown of his head a flat black cap
about the size of a saucer, which was not useful as a covering, it being
of such scanty dimensions, neither was it ornamental ; from beneath it
the hair fell, imparted, to the middle of the forehead, and was cropped
straight around ; a clerical band at the neck ; a blue gown that fitted
closely and hung as low as the knees or lower ; full sleeves ; a broad
red belt ; bright yellow stockings, gartered above the knees ; low shoes
with large metal buckles. It was a sufficiently ugly costume.
The boys stopped their play and flocked about the prince, who
said with native dignity
' Good lads, say to your master that Edward Prince of Wales
clesireth speech with him."
A great shout went up, at this, and one rude fellow said
" Marry, art thou his grace's messenger, beggar ? '
The Prince's face flushed with anger, and his ready hand flew to
his hip, but there was nothing there. There was a storm of laughter,
and one boy said
" Didst mark that ? He fancied he had a sword belike he is the
prince himself."
This sally brought more laughter. Poor Edward drew himself up
proudly and said
" I am the prince ; and it ill beseemeth you that feed upon the
king my father's bounty to use me so."
This was vastly enjoyed', as the laughter testified. The youth who
had first spoken, shouted to his comrades
" Ho, swine, slaves, pensioners of his grace's princely father, where
be your manners ? Down on your marrow bones, all of ye, and do
reverence to his kingly port and royal rags ! "
With boisterous mirth they dropped upon their knees in a body
and did mock homage to their prey. The prince spurned the nearest
boy with his foot, and said fiercely
1 See Note 1, at end of the volume.
THE PRINCE'S TROUBLES BEGIX.
31
" Take tliou that, till the morrow come and I build thee a gib-
bet ! "
Ah, but this was not a joke this was going beyond fun. The
laughter ceased on the instant, and fury took its place. A dozen
shouted
" Hale him forth ! To the horse-pond, to the horse-pond ! Where
be the dogs ? Ho, there, Lion ! ho, Fangs ! '
Then followed such a tiling ns England had never seen before
SET UPON BY DOGS.
the sacred person of the heir to the throne rudely buffeted by plebeian
hands, and set upon and torn by dogs.
As night drew to a close that day, the prince found himself far
down in the close-built portion of the city. His body was bruised, his
hands were bleeding, and his rags were all besmirched with mud. He
wandered on and on, and grew more and more bewildered, and so tired
32 THE PItlXCL'S TROUBLES BEGIX.
and faint he could hardly drag one foot after the other. He had
ceased to ask questions of anyone, since they brought him only insult
instead of information. He kept muttering to himself, " Offal Court-
that is the name ; if I can but find it before my strength is wholly
spent and I drop, then am I saved for his people will take me to the
palace and prove that I am none of theirs, but the true prince, and I
shall have mine own again." And now and then his mind reverted to
his treatment by those rude Christ's Hospital boys, and he said,
" When I am king, they shall not have bread and shelter only, but
also teachings out of books ; for a full belly is little worth where the
mind is starved, and the heart. I will keep this diligently in my re-
membrance, that this day's lesson be not lost upon me, and my people
suffer thereby ; for learning softeneth the heart and breedeth gentle-
ness and charity."
The lights began to twinkle, it came on to rain, the wind rose, and
a raw and gusty night set in. The houseless prince, the homeless heir
to the throne of England, still moved on, drifting deeper into the maze
of squalid alleys where the swarming hives of poverty and misery were
massed together.
Suddenly a great drunken ruffian collared him and said-
" Out to this time of night again, and hast not brought a farthing
home, I warrant me ! If it be so, an' I do not break all the bones in
thy lean body, then am I not John Canty, but some other."
The prince twisted himself loose, unconsciously brushed his pro-
faned shoulder, and eagerly said
" 0, art his father, truly ? Sweet heaven grant it be so then wilt
thou fetch him away and restore me ! '
" His father ? I know not what thou mean'st ; I but know I am
tliy father, as thou shalt soon have cause to "
" O, jest not, palter not, delay not ! I am worn, I am wounded,
I can bear no more. Take me to the king my father, and he will
make thee rich beyond thy wildest dreams. Believe me, man, believe
1 See Note 2, at end of the volume.
THE PRINCE'S TROUBLES BEGIN.
33
me ! I speak no lie, but only the truth ! put forth thy hand and
save me ! I am indeed the Prince of Wales ! '
The man stared down, stupefied, upon the lad, then shook his head
and muttered
" Gone stark mad as any Tom o' Bedlam ! ' then collared him
once more, and said with a coarse lausrh and an o-ith, " But mad or no
j
:
.
*r V
"83 s v s.\v
" A DRUNKEN RUFFIAN COLLARED HIM.
mad, I and thy Gammer Canty will soon find where the soft places in
thy bones lie, or I'm no true man ! "
With this he dragged the frantic and struggling prince away, and
disappeared up a front court followed by a delighted and noisy swarm
of human vermin.
D
fcqsfcss'fl
D 2
CHAPTER V.
:<>M AS A PATRICIAN.
TOM CANTY, left alone in the prince's cabinet, made good use of his
opportunity. He turned ,
himself this way and that
before the great mirror,
admiring his finery ; then
walked away, imitating the
prince's high-bred carriage,
and still observing results
in the glass. Next he drew
the beautiful sword, and
bowed, kissing the blade,
and laying it across his
breast, as he Lad seen a
noble knight do, by way
of salute to the lieutenant
of the Tower, five or six
weeks before, when deliver-
ing the great lords of Nor-
folk and Surrey into his
hands for captivity. Tom
played with the jewelled
dagger that hung upon his
thigh ; he examined the
costly and exquisite orna-
ments of the room ; he
tried each of the sumptuous chairs, and thought how proud he would be
'NEXT HE DREW THE SWORD.
38
TOM AS A PATRICIAN.
if the Offal Court herd could only peep in and see him in his grandeur.
He wondered if they would believe the marvellous tale he should tell
when he got home, or if they would shake their heads, and say his
overtaxed imagination had at last upset his reason.
At the end of half an hour it suddenly occurred to him that the
prince was gone a long time ; then right away he began to feel lonely ;
very soon he fell to listening and long-
ing, and ceased to toy with the pretty
things about him ; he grew uneasy, then
restless, then distressed. Suppose some
one should come, and catch him in the
prince's clothes, and the prince not there
to explain. Might they not hang him at once, and inquire into his
case afterward ? He had heard that the great were prompt about small
matters. His fears rose higher and higher ; and trembling he softly
opened the door to the antechamber, resolved to fly and seek the prince,
TOM AS A PATRICIA*.
39
and, through him, protection and release. Six gorgeous gentlemen-
servants and two young pages of high degree, clothed like butterflies,
sprang to their feet and bowed low before him. He stepped quickly
back and shut the door. He said
" Oh, they mock at me ! They will go and tell. Oh ! why came
I here to cast away my life ? '
He walked up and down the floor, rilled
with nameless fears, listening, starting at
every trifling sound. Presently the door
swung open, and a silken page said
" The Lady Jane Grey."
The door closed and a sweet yomii:
**^ J -
THE BOY WAS OX HIS KXEES.
girl, richly clad, bounded toward him. But she stopped suddenly, and
said in a distressed voice
" Oh, what aileth thee, my lord? "
Tom's breath was nearly failing him ; but he made shift to stammer
out
" Ah, be merciful, thou ! In sooth I am no lord, but only poor
40 TOM AS A PATRICIAN.
Tom Canty of Offal Court in the city. Prithee let me see the prince,
and he will of his grace restore to me my rags, and let me hence unhurt.
Oh, be thou merciful, and save me ! '
By this time the boy was on his knees, and supplicating with his
eyes and uplifted hands as well as with his tongue. The young girl
seemed horror-stricken. She cried out
" O my lord, on thy knees ? and to me ! r
Then she fled away in fright ; and Tom, smitten with despair, sank
down, murmuring
" There is no help, there is no hope. Now will they come and
take me."
Whilst he lay there benumbed with terror, dreadful tidings were
speeding through the palace. The whisper for it was whispered
always flew from menial to menial, from lord to lady, down all the
long corridors, from story to story, from saloon to saloon, " The prince
hath gone mad, the prince hath gone mad ! ' Soon every saloon, every
marble hall, had its groups of glittering lords and ladies, and other
groups of dazzling lesser folk, talking earnestly together in whispers,
and every face had in it dismay. Presently a splendid official came
marching by these groups, making solemn proclamation
" IN THE NAME OF THE KING !
Let none list to this false and foolish matter, upon pain of death, nor
discuss the same, nor carry it abroad. In the name of the King ! '
The whisperings ceased as suddenly as if the whisperers had been
stricken dumb.
Soon there was a general buzz along the corridors, of " The prince !
See, the prince comes ! '
Poor Tom came slowly walking past the low-bowing groups, trying
to bow in return, and meekly gazing upon his strange surroundings
with bewildered and pathetic eyes. Great nobles walked upon each
side of him, making him lean upon them, and so steady his steps.
Behind him followed the court-physicians and some servants.
Presently Torn found himself in a noble apartment of the palace
TOM AS A FATltlCIAX.
41
and heard the door close behind him. Around him stood those who
had come with him. Before him, at a little distance, reclined a very
large and very fat man, with a wide, pulpy face, and a stern expression.
His large head was very grey ; and his whiskers, which he wore only
around his face, like a frame, were grey also. His clothing was of rich
F, but old, and slightly
frayed in places. One of his
swollen legs had a pillow
.
*? r
" GKEAT NOBLES WALKED UPON EACH SIDK OF HIM.
under it, and was wrapped in bandages.
There was silence now ; and there was no
head there but was bent in reverence, except
this man's. This stern-countenanced invalid
was the dread Henry VJ1I. He said and his face grew gentle as he
began to speak
" How now, my lord Edward, my prince ? Hast been minded to
cozen me, the good King thy father, who loveth thee, and kindly useth
thee, with a sorry jest ? '
42 TOM AS A PATRICIAN.
Poor Tom was listening, as well as his dazed faculties would let
him, to the beginning of this speech ; but when the words " me the
good King " fell upon his ear, his face blanched, and he dropped as
instantly upon his knees as if a shot had brought him there. Lifting up
his hands, he exclaimed
" Thou the King ? Then am I undone indeed ! "
"HE DROPPED UPON HIS KNEES."
This speech seemed to stun the King. His eyes wandered from face
to face aimlessly, then rested, bewildered, upon the boy before him.
Then he said in a tone of deep disappointment
"Alack, I had believed the rumour disproportioned to the truth;
but I fear me 'tis not so." He breathed a heavy sigh, and said in a
gentle voice, " Come to thy father, child : thou art not well."
'10M AS A PATL'fCfAX. 43.
Tom was assisted to his feet, and approached the Majesty of
England, humble and trembling. The King took the frightened face
between his hands, and gazed earnestly and lovingly into it awhile, as.
if seeking some grateful sign of returning reason there, then pressed
the curly head against his breast, and patted it tenderly. Presently he-
said
" Dost not know thy father, child ? Break not mine old heart ;
say thou know'st me. Thou dost know me, dost thou not ? '
" Yea : thou art my dread lord the King, whom God preserve ! 5:
" True, true that is well be comforted, tremble not so ; there is.
none here would hurt thee ; there is none here but loves thee. Thou
art better now ; thy ill dream passeth is't not so ? And thou knowest
thyself now also ia't not so ? Thou wilt not miscall thyself again, as
they say thou didst a little while agone ? ' :
" I pray thee of thy grace believe me, I did but speak the truth,,
most dread lord; for I am the meanest among thy subjects, being a
pauper born, and 'tis by a sore mischance and accident I am here,
albeit I was therein nothing blameful. I am but young to die, and
thou canst save me with one little word. Oh speak it, sir ! '
"Die? Talk not so, sweet prince peace, peace, to thy troubled
heart thou shalt not die ! '
Tom dropped upon his knees with a glad cry
" God requite thy mercy, oh my King, and save thee long to bless,
thy land ! ' : Then springing up, he turned a joyful face toward the
two lords in waiting, and exclaimed, "Thou heard'st it ! I am not to.
die : the King hath said it ! ' There was no movement, save that all
bowed with grave respect ; but no one spoke. He hesitated, a little-
confused, then turned timidly toward the King, saying, " I may gp
now ? "
" Go ? Surely, if thou desirest. But why not tarry yet a little ?
Whither w r ouldst go ? ' :
Tom dropped his eyes, and answered humbly
" Peradventure I mistook ; but I did think me free, and so was 1
moved to seek again the kennel where I was born and bred to misery,.
TOIL AS A PATRICIAN.
yet which harboureth my mother and my sisters, and so is home to
me ; whereas these pomps and splendours whereunto I am not used
oh, please you, sir, to let me go ! '
The King was silent and thoughtful a while, and his face betrayed
a growing distress and uneasiness. Presently he said, 1 with something
of hope in his voice
" Perchance he is but mad upon this one strain,
and hath his wits unmarred as toucheth
other matter. God send it may be so !
We will make trial."
Then he asked Tom a nuestion
" HE TURNED WITH JOYFUL FACE.
in Latin, and Tom answered him lamely
in the same tongue. The King was
delighted, and showed it. The lords and doctors manifested their
gratification also. The King said-
" 'Twas not according to his schooling and ability, but slieweth
that his mind is but diseased, not stricken fatally. How say you,
TOM AS A PATR1CIAX.
45.
The physician addressed bowed low, and replied
" It jumpeth with mine own conviction, sire, that thou hast divined'
aright."
The King looked pleased with this encouragement, coming as it
did from so excellent authority, and continued with good heart
" Now mark ye all : we will try him further."
THE PHYSICIAN BOWED LOW.
He put a question to Tom in French. Tom
stood silent a moment, embarrassed by having
so many eyes centred upon him, then said diffidently
11 1 have no knowledge of this tongue, so please your majesty
The King fell back upon his couch. The attendants flew
assistance ; but he put them aside, and said
" Trouble me not it is nothing but a scurvy faintness.
to his
Eaise-
TOM AS A PATRICIAS.
me ! There, 'tis sufficient. Come hither, child ; there, rest thy poor
troubled head upon thy father's heart, and be at peace. Thou'lt soon
be well : 'tis but a passing fantasy. Fear thou not ; thou'lt soon be
well." Then he turned toward the company : his gentle manner
changed, and baleful lightnings began to play from his eyes. He
said
" List ye all ! This my son is mad ; but it is not permanent.
Over-study hath done this, and somewhat too much of confinement.
" THE KING FELL BACK TPOK
Away with his
books and teach-
ers ! see ye to it.
Pleasure him with sports, beguile him in wholesome ways, so that his
health come again." He raised himself higher still, and went on with
energy, " He is mad ; but he is my son, and England's heir ; and, mad
or sane, still shall he reign ! And hear ye further, and proclaim it :
whoso speaketh of this his distemper worketh against the peace and
TOM AS A PATHICIAX.
47
order of these realms, and shall to the gallows ! . . . Give me to drink
I burn : this sorrow sappeth my strength. . . . There, take away
the cnp. . . . Support me. There, that is well. Mad, is he ? Were
he a thousand times mad, yet is he Prince of Wales, and I the King
will confirm it. This very morrow shall he be installed in his princely
dignity in due and ancient form. Take instant order for it, my lord
Hertford."
One of the nobles knelt
at the royal couch, and
said
* \ ,
IS THIS MAN TO LIVE FUR KVi K ''.
" The King's majesty knoweth that the Hereditary Great Marshal
of England lieth attainted in the Tower. It were not meet that one
attainted "
" Peace ! Insult not mine ears with his hated name. Is this man
to live for ever ? Am I to be baulked of my will ? Is the prince
to tarry uninstalled, because, forsooth, the realm la^keth an Earl
Marshal free of treasonable taint to invest him with his honours?
No, by the splendour of God ! Warn my Parliament to bring me
48 TOM AS A PATRICIAN.
Norfolk's doom before the sun rise again, else shall they answer for it
grievously ! " l
Lord Hertford said
"The King's will is law;" and, rising, returned to his former
place.
Gradually the wrath faded out of the old King's face, and .he
said
" Kiss me, my prince. There . . . what fearest thou ? Am I not
thy loving father? '
" Thou art good to me that am unworthy, O mighty and gracious
lord : that in truth I know. But but it grieveth me to think of him
that is to die, and "
" Ah, 'tis like thee, 'tis like thee ! I know thy heart is still the
same, even though thy mind hath suffered hurt, for thou wert ever of
a gentle spirit. But this duke standeth between thee and thine
honours : I will have another in his stead that shall brino; no taint to
O
his great office. Comfort thee, my prince : trouble not thy poor head
with this matter."
" But is it not I that speed him hence, my liege ? How long might
he not live, but for me ? '
" Take no thought of him, my prince : he is not worthy. Kiss me
once again, and go to thy trifles and amusements; for my malady
distresseth me. I am aweary, and would rest. Go with thine uncle
Hertford and thy people, and come again when my body is re-
freshed."
Tom, heavy-hearted, was conducted from the presence, for this
last sentence was a death-blow to the hope he had cherished that now
he would be set free. Once more he heard the buzz of low voices
exclaiming, " The prince, the prince comes ! '
His spirits sank lower and lower as he moved between the glitter-
ing files of bowing courtiers ; for he recognised that he was indeed a
captive now, and might remain for ever shut up in this gilded cage,
1 See Note 3, at end of the volume.
TOM AS A PATlilCIAX. 49
a forlorn and friendless prince, except God in his mercy take pity on
him and set him free.
And, turn where he would, he seemed to see floating in the air the
severed head and the remembered face of the great Duke of Norfolk,
the eyes fixed on him reproachfully.
His old dreams had been so pleasant; but this reality was so
dreary !
E 2
53
CHAPTER VI.
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
TOM was conducted to the principal apartment of a noble suite, and
made to sit down a thing which he was loth to do, since there were
elderly men and men of high
degree about him. lie begged
them to be seated also, but they
only bowed their thanks or mur-
mured them, and remained stand-
ing. He would have insisted, but
his " uncle " the Earl of Hertford
whispered in his ear
" Prithee, insist not, my
lord ; it is not meet that
they sit in thy presence."
The Lord St. John was
announced, and after making
obeisance to Tom, he said
" I come upon the king's
errand, concern-
ing a matter
which requireth
privacy. "\Vill
it please your
royal highness
to dismiss all
that attend you here, save rny lord the Earl o Hertford ? '
Observing that Tom did not seem to know how to proceed, Hert-
PRITHEE, INSIST NOT.
54 TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
ford whispered him to make a sign with his hand, and not trouble
himself to speak unless he chose. When the waiting gentlemen had
retired, Lord St. John said
" His majesty commandeth, that for due and weighty reasons of
state, the prince's grace shall hide his infirmity in all ways that be
within his power, till it be passed and he be as he was before. To
wit, that he shall deny to none that he is the true prince, and heir to
England's greatness ; that he shall uphold his princely dignity, and
shall receive, without word or sign of protest, that reverence and
observance which unto it do appertain of right and ancient usage ; that
he shall cease to speak to any of that lowly birth and life his malady
hath conjured out of the unwholesome imaginings of o'er-wrought
fancy ; that he shall strive with diligence to bring unto his memory
again those faces which he was wont to know and where he faileth
he shall hold his peace, neither betraying by semblance of surprise or
other sign that he hath forgot ; that upon occasions of state, when-
soever any matter shall perplex him as to the thing he should do or
the utterance he should make, he shall show nought of unrest to the
curious that look on, but take advice in that matter of the Lord Hert-
ford, or my humble self, which are commanded of the king to be upon
this service and close at call, till this commandment be dissolved.
Thus saith the king's majesty, who sendeth greeting to your royal
highness, and prayeth that God will of His mercy quickly heal you and
have you now and ever in His holy keeping."
The Lord St. John made reverence and stood aside. Tom replied,
resignedly
" The king hath said it. None may palter with the king's com-
mand, or fit it to his ease, where it doth chafe, with deft evasions.
The king shall be obeyed."
Lord Hertford said
" Touching the king's majesty's ordainment concerning books and
such like serious matters it may peradventure please your highness
to ease your time with lightsome entertainment, lest you go wearied to
the banquet and suffer harm thereby."
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
55
Tom's face showed inquiring surprise ; and a blush followed when
he saw Lord St. John's eyes bent sorrowfully upon him. His lordship
said
" Thy memory still wrongeth thee, and thou hast shown surprise
but suffer it not to trouble thee, for 'tis a matter that will not bide,
but depart with thy mending malady. My Lord of Hertford speaketh
THE LOED ST. JOHN MADE EEVEEENCE.
of the city's banquet which the king's majesty did promise, some
two months flown, your highness should attend. Thou recallest it
now?"
" It grieves me to confess it had indeed escaped me," said Tom, in
a hesitating voice ; and blushed again.
At this moment the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady Jane Grey were
announced. The two lords exchanged significant glances, and Hert-
56
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
ford stepped quickly toward the door. As the young girls passed him,
he said in a low voice
" I pray ye, ladies, seem not to observe his humours, nor show sur-
prise when his memory doth lapse it will grieve you to note how it
doth stick at every trifle."
HERTFORD AND THE PRINCESSES.
Meantime Lord St. John was saying in Tom's ear
" Please you, sir, keep diligently in mind his majesty's desire.
Remember all thou canst seem to remember all else. Let them not
perceive that thou art much' changed from thy wont, for thou knowest
how tenderly thy old play-fellows bear thee in their hearts and how
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS. 67
'twould grieve them. Art willing, sir, that I remain? and thine
uncle ? "
Tom signified assent with a gesture and a murmured word, for he
was already learning, and in his simple heart was resolved to acquit
himself as best he might, according to the king's command.
In spite of every precaution, the conversation among the young
people became a little embarrassing at times. More than once, in
truth, Tom was near to breaking down and confessing himself unequal
to his tremendous part; but the tact of the Princess Elizabeth saved
hirh, or a word from one or the other of the vigilant lords, thrown in
apparently by chance, had the same happy effect. Once the little
Lady Jane turned to Tom and dismayed him with this question, -
"Hast paid thy duty to the queen's majesty to-day, my lord ? '
Tom hesitated, looked distressed, and was about to stammer out
something at hazard, whm Lord Sr. John took the word and answered
for him with the easy grace of a courtier accustomed to encounter
delicate difficulties and to be ready for them
" He hath indeed, madam, and she did greatly hearten him, as
touching his majesty's condition ; is it not so, your highness ? '
Tom mumbled something that stood for assent, but felt that he was
fretting upon dangerous ground. Somewhat later it was mentioned that
Tom was to study no more at present, whereupon her little ladyship
exclaimed
" 'Tis a pity, 'tis such a pity! Thou wert proceeding bravely.
But bide thy time in patience : it will not be for long. Thou'lt yet
be graced with learning like thy father, and make thy tongue master
of as many languages as his, good my prince."
" My father ! " cried Tom, off his guard for the moment. " I trow
he cannot speak his own so that any but the swine that kennel
in the styes may tell his meaning; and as for learning of any sort
soever "
He looked up and encountered a solemn warning in my Lord St.
John's eyes.
He stopped, blushed, then continued low and sadly: "Ah, my
58 TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
malady persecuteth me again, and my mind wandereth. I meant the
king's grace no irreverence.*'
" We know it, sir," said the Princess Elizabeth, taking her " bro-
ther's " hand between her two palms, respectfully but caressingly ;
" trouble not thyself as to that. The fault is none of thine, but thy
distemper's."
" Thou'rt a gentle comforter, sweet lady," said Tom, gratefully,
" and my heart moveth me to thank thee for't, an' I may be so bold."
Once the giddy little Lady Jane fired a simple Greek phrase at
Torn. The Princess Elizabeth's quick eye saw by the serene blankness
of the target's front that the shaft was overshot; so she tranquilly
delivered a return volley of sounding Greek on Tom's behalf, and then
straightway changed the talk to other matters.
Time wore on pleasantly, and likewise smoothly, on the whole.
Snags and sandbars grew less and less frequent, and Tom grew more
and more at his ease, seeing that all were so lovingly bent upon help-
ing 'him and overlooking his mistakes. When it came out that the
little ladies were to accompany him to the Lord Mayor's banquet in
the evening, his heart gave a bound of relief and delight, for he felt
that he should not be friendless, now, among that multitude of stran-
gers ; whereas, an hour earlier, the idea of their going with him would
have been an insupportable terror to him.
Tom's guardian angels, the two lords, had had less comfort in the
interview than the other parties to it. They felt much as if they
Avere piloting a great ship through a dangerous channel ; they were
on the alert constantly, and found their office no child's play. Where-
fore, at last, when the ladies' visit was drawing to a close and the
Lord Guilford Dudley was announced, they not only felt that their
charge had been sufficiently taxed for the present, but also that they
themselves were not in the best condition to take their ship back and
make their anxious voyage all over again. So they respectfully ad-
vised Tom to excuse himself, which he was very glad to do, although
a slight shade of disappointment might have been observed upon my
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
Lady Jane's face when she heard the splendid stripling denied admit-
tance.
There was a pause now, a sort of waiting silence which Tom
could not understand. He glanced at Lord Hertford, who gave him a
si?n but he failed* to understand that also. The ready Elizabeth
j
came to the rescue with her usual easy grace. She
/ m.-ide reverence and said
' i ' m '
A
._
" SHE MADE REVEKENCK."
"Have we leave of the prince's grace my brother to go 1 "
Tom said
"Indeed your ladyships can have whatsoever of me they will, for
the asking ; yet would I rather give them any other thing that in my
poor power lieth, than leave to take the light and blessing of their pre-
sence hence. Give ye good den, and God be with ye ! " Then he
smiled inwardly at the thought, u 'Tis not for nought I have dwelt but
among princes in my reading, and taught my tongue some slight trick
of their broidered and gracious speech withal ! >:
60
RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
r
When the illustrious maidens were gone, Tom turned wearily td his
keepers and said
" May it please your lordships to grant me leave to go into some
corner and rest me ? "
Lord Hertford said
" So please your high-
ness, it is for you to com-
mand, it is for us to obey.
That thou shouldst rest
is indeed a needful thing,
since thou must journey
to the city presently."
He touched a bell, and
a page appeared, who was
ordered to desire the pre-
UFFKRED IT TO HIJI ON A GOLDEN SALVEK.
sence of Sir William Herbert. This gentleman came straightway, and
conducted Tom. to an inner apartment. Tom's first movement there
was to reach fo^a cup of water; but a silk-and-velvet servitor seized
it, dropped upon one knee, and offered it to him on a golden salver.
TOM RECEIVES iySTItUCTIO.\*. 61
Next the tired captive sat down and was going to take off hi&
buskins, timidly asking leave with his eye, but another silk-and-veivet
discomforter went down upon his knees and took the office from him-
He made two or three further efforts to help himself, but being
promptly forestalled each time, he finally gave up, with a sigh of
resignation and a murmured " Beshrew me, but I marvel they do not
require to breathe for me also ! " Slippered, and wrapped in a sumptu-
ous robe, he laid himself down at last to rest, but not to sleep, for
his head was too full of thoughts and the room too full of people,
He could not dismiss the former, so they stayed ; he did not know
enough to dismiss the latter, so they stayed also, to his vast regret
and theirs.
Tom's departure had left his two noble guardians alone. They
mused a while, with much head-shaking and walking the floor, then
Lord St. John said
" Plainly, what dost tliou think ? "
"Plainly, then, this. The king is near his end; my nephew is-
mad mad will mount the throne, and mad remain. God protect
England, since she will need it ! "
" Verily it proniiseth so, indeed. But . . . have you no misgivings-
as to , , as to .
The speaker hesitated, and finally stopped. He evidently felt that
he was upon delicate ground. Lord Hertford stopped before him,
looked into his face with a clear, frank eye, and said
" Speak on there is none to hear but me. Misgivings as to<
what ? "
" I am full loath to word the thing that is in my mind, and thou so
near to him in blood, my lord. But craving pardon if I do offend,,
seemeth it not strange that madness could so change his port and
manner ? not but that his port and speech are princely still, but that
they fli/er, in one unweighty trifle or another, from what his custom
was aforetime. Seemeth it not strange that madness should filch from
his memory his father's very lineaments ; the customs and observances
62
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
that are his due from such as be about him ; and, leaving him his Latin,
strip him of his Greek and French ? My lord, be not offended, but
ease my mind of its disquiet and receive my grateful thanks. It
haunteth me, his saying he was not the prince, and so "
" Peace, my lord, thou utterest treason ! Hast forgot the king's
command ? Remember I am party to thy crime if I but listen."
St. John paled, and hastened to say
"THEY MUSED A WHILE."
" I was in fault, I do confess it. Betray me not, grant me this
grace out of thy courtesy, and I will neither think nor speak of this
thing more. Deal not hardly with me, sir, else am I ruined."
" I am content, my lord. So thou offend not again, here or in the
ears of others, it shall be as though thou hadst not spoken. But thou
needst not have misgivings. He is my sister's son ; are not his voice,
his face, his form, familiar to me from his cradle ? Madness can do
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS. 03
all the odd conflicting things thou seest in him, and more. Dost not
recall how that the old Baron Marley, being mad, forgot the favour of
his own countenance that he had known for sixty years, and held it
was another's ; nay, even claimed he was the son of Mary Magdalene,
and that his head was made of Spanish glass ; and, soothe to say, he
" PEACE, MY LORD, THOU UTTEREST TREASON."
suffered none to touch it, lest by mischance some heedless hand might
shiver it ? Give thy misgivings easement, good my lord. This is the
very prince I know him well and soon will be thy king ; it may
advantage thee to bear this in mind, and more dwell upon it than the
other."
After some further talk, in which the Lord St. John covered up his
TOM RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS.
mistake as well as he could by repeated protests that his faith was
thoroughly grounded now, and could not be assailed by doubts again,
the Lord Hertford relieved his fellow-keeper, and sat down to keep
watch and ward alone.
He was soon deep in me-
ditation, and evidently the
longer he thought, the more
he was bothered. By-and-
by he began to pace the
floor and mutter.
" Tush, he must be the
prince ! Will any he in all
the land maintain there can
be two, not of one blood
and birth, so marvellously
twinned ? And even were
it so, 'twere yet a stranger
miracle that chance should
cast the one into the other's
place. Nay, 'tis folly, folly,
folly ! "
Presently he said-
" Now were he impostor
and called himself prince,
look you that would be
natural ; that would be rea-
sonable. But lived ever an
impostor yet, who, being
called prince by the kine.
'HE BEGAN TO PACE THE FLOOR.'
prince by the court, prince
by all, denied his dignity and pleaded against his exaltation ? No !
By the soul of St. Swithin, no ! This is the true prince, gone mad ! ' :
67
CHAPTER VII.
TOM'S FIRST ROYAL DINNER.
SOMEWHAT after one in the afternoon, Tom re-
signedly underwent the ordeal of being dressed
fur dinner. He found himself as finely clothed
as before, but everything different, everything
changed, from his ruff to his stock-
ings. He was presently conducted
with much state to a spacious and
mate apartment, where a table
was already set for one. Its
furniture was all of massy
gold, and beautified
with designs which
well-nigh made it
priceless, since they
were the work of
Benvenuto. The
room was half-filled with noble servitors. A
chaplain said grace, and Tom was about to fall
to, for hunger had long been constitutional
with him, but was interrupted by my lord the
Earl of Berkeley, who fastened a napkin about
his neck ; for the great post of Diaperers to the
Princes of Wales was hereditary in this noble-
man's family. Tom's cupbearer was present,
and forestalled all his attempts to help himself
F2
FASTENED A NAPKIN
ABOUT HIS XECK."
68 TOM'S FIRST ROYAL DINNER.
to wine. The Taster to his highness the Prince of Wales was there
also, prepared to taste any suspicious dish upon requirement, and run
the risk of being poisoned. He was only an ornamental appendage at
this time, and was seldom called upon to exercise his function ; but
there had been times, not many generations past, when the office of
taster had its perils, and was not a grandeur to be desired. Why they
did not use a dog or a plumber seems strange ; but all the ways of
royalty are strange. My Lord d'Arcy, First Groom of the Chamber,
was there, to do goodness knows what ; but there he was let that suf-
fice. The Lord Chief Butler was there, and stood behind Tom's chair,
overseeing the solemnities, under command of the Lord Great Steward
and the Lord Head Cook, who stood near. Tom had three hundred
and eighty -four servants beside these ; but they were not all in that
room, of course, nor the quarter of them ; neither was Tom aware yet
that they existed.
All those that were present had been well drilled within the hour
to remember that the prince was temporarily out of his head, and to
be careful to show no surprise at his vagaries. These " vagaries " were
soon on exhibition before them; but they only moved their compassion
and their sorrow, not their mirth. It was a heavy affliction to them to
see the beloved prince so stricken.
Poor Tom ate with his fingers mainly ; but no one smiled at it, or
even seemed to observe it. He inspected his napkin curiously, and
with deep interest, for it was of a very dainty and beautiful fabric,
then said with simplicity
" Prithee, take it away, lest in mine unheedfulness it be soiled."
The Hereditary Diaperer took it away with reverent manner, and
without word or protest of any sort.
Tom examined the turnips and the lettuce with interest, and asked
what they were, and if they were to be eaten ; for it was only re-
cently that men had begun to raise these things in England in place
of importing them as luxuries from Holland. 1 His question was
answered with grave respect, and no surprise manifested. When he
1 See Note 4, at end of volume.
TOM'S FIItST 1WYAL Dl.\\ /./,'.
60
had finished his dessert, he filled his pockets with nuts; but nobody ap-
peared to be aware of it, or disturbed by it. But the next moment he
was himself disturbed
by it, and showed dis-
composure ; for this
was the only service
he had been permit-
ted to do with his
own hands during the
meal, and he did not
doubt that he had
done a most improper
and unpriucely thing.
At that moment the
muscles of his nose
began to twitch, and
the end of that organ
to lift and wrinkle.
This continued, and
Tom began to evince a
growing distress. He
looked appealingly, first at one and then an-
other of the lords about him, and tears came
into his eyes. They sprang forward with dis-
may in their faces, and begged to know his
trouble. Tom said with genuine anguish
" I crave your indulgence : my nose itcheth
cruelly. What is the custom and usage in
this emergence? Prithee, speed, for 'tis but a little time that I can
bear it."
None smiled ; but all were sore perplexed, and looked one to the
other in deep tribulation for counsel. But behold, here was a dead
wall, and nothing in English history to tell how to get over it. The
Master of Ceremonies was not present : there was no one who felt safe
TOM ATE WITH HIS
FINGERS."
70
TOM'S FIRST ROYAL DINNER.
to venture upon this uncharted sea, or risk the attempt to solve this
solemn problem. Alas! there was no Hereditary Scratcher. Meantime
the tears had overflowed their banks, and begun to trickle down Tom's
cheeks. His twitching nose was pleading more urgently than ever for
relief. At last nature broke down the barriers of etiquette : Tom lifted
up an inward prayer for pardon if he was doing wrong, and brought
relief to the burdened hearts of his court by scratching his nose himself.
His meal being ended, a lord came and held before him a broad,
shallow, golden dish
with fragrant rose-
water in it, to cleanse
his mouth and fingers
with ; and my lord the
Hereditary Diaperer
stood by with a nap-
kin for his use. Tom
gazed at the dish a
puzzled moment or
two, then raised it to
his lips, and gravely
took a draught. Then
he returned it to the waiting lord, and
said
" Nay, it likes me not, my lord : it
hath a pretty flavour, but it wanteth
strength."
This new eccentricity of the prince's
ruined mind made all the hearts about him ache ; but the sad sight
moved none to merriment.
Tom's next unconscious blunder was to get up and leave the table
just when the chaplain had taken his stand behind his chair, and with
uplifted hands, and closed, uplifted eyes, was in the act of beginning
the blessing. Still nobody seemed to perceive that the prince had
done a thing unusual.
HE GEAVKLY TOOK A
DRAUGHT."
TOM'S FIRST 110 YAL DIXXER.
71
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 exqui-
sitely 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
' TOM PUT OX THE GREAVES.
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 Here-
ditaries 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
72 TOJl'S FIRST ROYAL DINNER.
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.
75
CHAPTER V11I.
TIIK 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, say-
mg-
" 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 Par-
liament, 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,
76
THE QUESTION OF THE SEAL.
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 ? "
\
'THE ATTENDANTS
EASED HIM BACK
UPON HIS PIL-
LOWS.
H
"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 it. ... 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
THE QUESTION OF THE SEAL. 77
he had done with the Seal. At last my Lord Plertford 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 high-
ness 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 unwel-
come 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 my 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 cooipassion for him, and
sorrow that I may not bear his burden on mine own 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
78 THE QUESTION OF THE SEAL.
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. 1
1 See Note o, at end of volume.
3
CHAPTER IX.
Till: IMVKi: 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 Avith 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 crea-
tures 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
G
82
THE RIVER PAGEANT.
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 ar-
morial 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 ex-
pected procession now appeared
A TROOP OF HALBERDIERS
APPEARED IN THE GATE-
in the great gateway, a troop
of halberdiers. " They were
dressed in striped hose of black and tawny, velvet caps graced at the
THE IUVER PAGEANT. S3
sides with silver roses, and doublets of murrey and blue cloth, embroi-
dered 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 gate-
way 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 bear-
ing the civic mace, after whom came another carrying the city's
sword ; then several sergeants of the city guard, in their full accoutre-
ments, 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-chaasses, and took their
way down the steps. They were of the suite of the French ambassa-
dor, 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 attend-
ants."
There was a flourish of trumpets within ; and the prince's uncle,
the future great Duke of Somerset, emerged from the gateway, ar-
rayed 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 trum-
G 2
84
THE EIVER PAGEANT.
pet-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 leaped forth with a
thunder- crash ; the massed world on the river burst into a mighty
roar of welcome ; and Torn
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, powder-
ed with diamonds, and edged
with ermine. Over this he
wore a mantle of white cloth-
of-gold, pounced with the
triple-feather 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 se-
veral princely foreign orders;' 7
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 I
"TOM CANTY STEPPED INTO VJEW."
B7
CHAPTER X.
Till. riMNCE IX THE TOILS.
left John Canty dragging tin rightful prince into Offal Court,
with a noisy and r i delighted mob at
^/-.
was but one person
his heels. There
in it who offered
"
.
i
a pleading word
A DLSI FORM SAXK TO THE GKOUXD.
for the captive, and he was not heeded : he was hardly even heard,
88 THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS.
so great was the turmoil. The prince continued to struggle for free-
dom, 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,
" Tarry ! There's fine mummeries here. Mar them not till thou'st
enjoyed them : then let thy hand be heavy as thou wilt. Stand forth,
lad. Now say thy foolery again, an thou'st not forgot it. Name thy
name. Who art thou ? '
The insulted blood mounted to the little prince's cheek once more,
and he lifted a steady and indignant gaze to the man's face and said,
" 'Tis but ill-breeding in such as thou to command me to speak. I
tell thee now, as I told thee before, I am Edward, Prince of Wales,
and none other."
The stunning surprise of this reply nailed the hag's feet to the
floor where she stood, and almost took her breath. She stared at the
prince in stupid amazement, which so amused her ruffianly son. that
he burst into a roar of laughter. But the effect upon Tom Canty's
mother and sisters was different. Their dread of bodily injury gave
THE rillXCE 7-V THE TOILS.
S9
way at once to distress of a different sort. They ran forward with woe
and dismay in their faces, exclaiming,
" Oh, poor Tom, poor lad ! "
The mother fell on her knees before the prince, put her hands
upon his shoulders, and gazed yearningly into his face through her
rising tears. Then she said,
f
" Oh, my poor ilW
M >y ! thy foolish read-
ing hath wrought its
woeful work at last,
and ta'en thy wit
away. Ah ! why didst thou cleave to it when I so warned thee
'gainst it ? Thou'st broke thy mother's heart."
The prince looked into her face, and said gently,
" Thy son is well, and hath not lost his wits, good dame. Comfort
thee : let me to the palace where he is, and straightway will the King
my father restore him to thee."
" The King thy father ! Oh, my child ! unsay these words that be
90 THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS,
freighted with death for thee, and ruin for all that be near to thee
Shake off this gruesome dream. Call back thy poor wandering
memory. Look upon me. Am not I thy mother that bore thee, and
loveth thee ? "
The prince shook his head and reluctantly said,
" God knoweth I am loth to grieve thy heart ; but truly have I
never looked upon thy face before."
The woman sank back to a sitting posture on the floor, and, cover-
ing her eyes with her hands, gave way to heart-broken sobs and
wailings.
" Let the show go on ! " shouted Canty. " What, Nan ! what, Bet !
mannerless wenches! will ye stand in the prince's presence? Upon
your knees, ye pauper scum, and do him reverence ! "
He followed this with another horse-laugh. The girls began to
plead timidly for their brother ; and Nan said,
" An thou wilt but let him to bed, father, rest and sleep will heal
his madness: prithee, do."
" Do, father," said Bet : " he is more worn than is his wont. To-
morrow will he be himself again, and will beg with diligence, and
come not empty home again."
This remark sobered the father's joviality, and brought his mind
to business. He turned angrily upon the prince, and said,
" The morrow must we pay two pennies to him that owns this
hole ; two pennies, mark ye, -all this money for a half-year's rent,
else out of this we go. Show what thou'st gathered with thy lazy
begging."
The prince said,
" Offend me not with thy sordid matters. I tell thee again I am
the King's son."
A sounding blow upon the prince's shoulder from Canty's broad
palm sent him staggering into goodwife Canty's arms, who clasped
him to her breast, and sheltered him from a pelting rain of cuffk
and slaps by interposing her own person. The frightened girls re-
treated to their corner ; but the grandmother stepped eagerly forward
THE rui.\< i: ix THE TOILS. 91
to a>si>t her son. The prince sprang away from Mrs. Canty, exclaim-
ing,-
" Thou shalt not suffer for me, madam. Let these swine do their
will upon me alone."
This speech infuriated the swine to such a degree that they set
about their work without waste of time. Between them they bela-
boured the boy right soundly, and then gave the girls and their mother
a beating for showing sympathy for the victim.
"Now," said Canty, "to bed, all of ye. The entertainment has
tired me."
The light
was put out 7
and the family
retired. As-
soon as the
snoringsof the
head of the
house and his
mother show-
ed that they
were asleep 7
the young girls
crept to where
the prince lay,
and covered him tenderly from the cold
with straw and rags ; and their mother
crept to him also, and stroked his hair, and
cried over him, whispering broken words of
comfort and compassion in his ear the while. She had saved a morsel
for him to eat, also ; but the boy's-pains had swept away all appetite,
at least for black and tasteless crusts. He was touched by her brave
and costly defence of him, and by her commiseration ; and he thanked
her in very noble and princely words, and begged her to go to her
sleep and try to forget her sorrows. And he added that the King
>KNT HIM STAGGERING INTO
GOODW1FE CANTY S AKMS.
92 THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS.
his father would not let her loyal kindness and devotion go unrewarded.
This return to his " madness " broke her heart anew, and she strained
him to her breast again and again, and then went back, drowned in
tears, to her bed.
As she lay thinking and mourning, the suggestion began to creep
into her mind that there was an undefinable something about this boy
that was lacking in Tom Canty, mad or sane. She could not describe
it, she could not tell just what it was, and yet her sharp mother-instinct
seemed to detect it and perceive it. What if the boy were really not
her son, after all ? Oh, absurd ! She almost smiled at the idea, spite
of her griefs and troubles. No matter, she found that it was an idea
that would not " down," but persisted in haunting her. It pursued
her, it harassed her, it clung to her, and refused to be put away or
ignored. At last she perceived that there was not going to be any
peace for her until she should devise a test that should prove, clearly
.and without question, whether this lad was her son or not, and so
banish these wearing and worrying doubts. Ah, yes, this was plainly
the right way out of the difficulty ; therefore she set her wits to work
at once to contrive that test. But it was an easier thing to propose
than to' accomplish. She turned over in her mind one promising test
after another, but was obliged to relinquish them all none of them
were absolutely sure, absolutely perfect; and an imperfect one could
not satisfy her. Evidently she was racking her head in vain it
seemed manifest that she must give the matter up. While this de-
pressing thought was passing through her mind, her ear caught the
regular breathing of the boy, and she knew he had fallen asleep. And
Awhile she listened, the measured breathing was broken by a soft, startled
cry, such as one utters in a troubled dream. This chance occurrence
furnished her instantly with a plan worth all her laboured tests
combined. She at once set herself feverishly, but noiselessly, to work,
to relight her candle, muttering to herself, u Had I but seen him
then, I should have known ! Since that day, when he was little, that
the powder burst in his face, he hath' never been startled of a sudden
>out of his dreams or out of his thinkings, but he hath cast his hand
THE PIIIXL'E IX THE TOILS.
93-
before his eyes, even as he did that clay ; and not as others would do-
it, with the palm inward, but always with the palm turned outward-
I have seen it a hundred times, and it hath never varied nor ever
failed. Yes, I shall soon know, now ! '
By this time she had crept to the slumbering boy's side, with the
candle, shaded, in her hand.. She bent heedfully and warily over
him, scarcely breathing in her suppressed excitement, and suddenly
flashed the light in his face and struck the floor by his ear with her
SHE BENT HEKDFULLY AND WARILY OVER HIM.
knuckles. The sleeper's eyes sprang wide
open, and he cast a startled stare about
him but he made no special movement with his hands.
The poor woman was smitten almost helpless with surprise and
grief; but she contrived to hide her emotions, and to soothe the boy to-
sleep again ; then she crept apart and communed miserably with her-
self upon the disastrous result of her experiment. She tried to believe
that her Tom's madness had banished this habitual gesture of his ; but
34 THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS.
she could not do it. " No," she said, '' his hands are not mad, they
could not unlearn so old a habit in so brief a time. Oh, this is a heavy
day for me ! '
Still, hope was as stubborn now as doubt had been before ; she
could not bring herself to accept the verdict of the test ; she must try
the thing again the failure must have been only an accident ; so she
startled the boy out of his sleep a second and a third time, at intervals
with the same result which had marked the first test ; then she
dragged herself to bed, and fell sorrowfully asleep, saying, " But I
cannot give him up oh no, I cannot, I cannot he must be my boy ! "
The poor mother's interruptions having ceased, and the prince's
pains having gradually lost their power to disturb him, utter weariness
at last sealed his eyes in a profound and restful sleep. Hour after hour
slipped away, and still he slept like the dead. Thus four or five hours
passed. Then his stupor began to lighten. Presently while half asleep
and half awake, he murmured,
" Sir William ! "
After a moment
" Ho, Sir William Herbert ! Hie thee hither, and list to the
strangest dream that ever ... Sir William ! dost hear ? Man, I did
think me changed to a pauper, and . . . Ho there ! Guards ! Sir
William ! What ! is there no groom of the chamber in waiting ?
Alack ! it shall go hard with "
"What aileth thee?" asked a whisper near him. " Who art thou
calling ? "
" Sir William Herbert. Who art thou ? "
" I ? Who should I be. but thy sister Nan ? Oh, Tom, I had forgot !
Thou'rt mad yet poor lad, thou'rt mad yet, would I had never woke
to know it again ! But prithee master thy tongue, lest we be all beaten
till we die ! "
The startled prince sprang partly up, but a sharp reminder from his
stiffened bruises brought him to himself, and he sank back among his
foul straw with a moan and the ejaculation,
" Alas ! it was no dream, then ! "
THE PR1XCK 7.V I HE TOILS.
95
In a moment all the heavy sorrcnv and misery which sleep had
banished were upon him again, and he realised that he was no longer a
petted prince in a palace, with the adoring eyes of a nation upon him,
but a pauper, an outcast, clothed in rags, prisoner in a den fit only for
beasts, and consorting with beggars and thieves.
In the midst of his grief he began to be conscious of hilarious
noises and shoutings, apparently but a block or two away. The next
THE PRINCE SPRANG UP.'
moment there were several sharp raps at the door ; John Canty ceased
{from snoring and said,
" Who knocketh ? What wilt thou ? "
A voice answered,
" Know'st thou who it was thou laid thy cudgel on ? "
" No. Neither know I, nor care."
" Belike thou'lt change thy note eftsoons. An thou would save
'thy neck, nothing but flight may stead thee. The man is this moment
delivering up the ghost. 'Tis the priest, Father Andrew ! "
96
THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS.
" God-a-mercy ! '' exclaimed Canty. He roused his family, and!
hoarsely commanded, " Up with ye all and fly or bide where ye are
and perish ! '
Scarcely five minutes later the Canty household were in the street
and flying for their lives. John Canty held the prince by the wrist.
" HURRIED HIM ALONG
THE DARK WAY."
and hurried him along-
-~ the dark way, giving:
him this caution in a
low voice,-
u Mind thy tongue, thou mad fool, and speak not our name. I will
choose me a new name, speedily, to throw the law's dogs off the scent.
Mind thy tongue, I tell thee ! '
He growled these words to the rest of the family,
"If it so chance that we be separated, let each make for London
Bridge ; whoso findeth himself as far as the last linendraper's shop on
the bridge, let him tarry there till the others be come, then will we flee
into Southwark together.'*
THE PRIXCE IX THE TOILS. 07
At this moment the party burst suddenly out of darkness into
light ; and not only into light, but into the midst of a multitude of
singing, dancing; and shouting people, massed together on the river
frontage. There was a line of bonfires stretching as far as one could
see, up and down the Thames; London Bridge was illuminated;
Southwark Bridge likewise ; the entire river was aglow with the flash
and sheen of coloured lights ; and constant explosions of fireworks
filled the skies with an intricate commingling of shooting splendours .
and a thick rain of dazzling sparks that almost turned night into
day ; everywhere were crowds of revellers ; all London seemed to be
at large.
John Canty delivered himself of a furious curse and commanded a
retreat; but it was too late. lit- and his tribe were swallowed up in
that swarming hive of humanity, and hopelessly separated from each
other in an instant. "We are not considering that the prince was one
of his tribe; Canty still kept his grip upon him. The prince's heart
was beating high with hopes of escape, now. A burly waterman,
considerably exalted with liquor, found himself rudely shoved, by
Canty in his efforts to plough through the crowd ; he laid his great
hand on Canty's shoulder and said
" Nay, whither so fast, friend ? Dost canker thy soul with sordid
business when all that be leal men and true make holiday ? '
" Mine affairs are mine own, they concern thee not," answered
Canty, roughly ; " take away thy hand and let me pass."
" Sith that is thy humour, thou'lt not pass, till thou'st drunk to the
Prince of Wales, I tell thee that," said the waterman, barring the way
resolutely.
" Give me the cup, then, and make speed, make speed ! '
Other revellers were interested by this time. They cried out
" The loving-cup, the loving-cup ! make the sour knave drink the
loving-cup, else will we feed him to the fishes."
So a huge loving-cup was brought ; the waterman, grasping it by
one of its handles, and with his other hand bearing up the end of an
imaginary napkin, presented it in due and ancient form to Canty, who
H
98
THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS.
had to grasp the opposite handle with one of his hands and take
off the lid with the other, according to ancient custom. 1 This left
the prince hand-free for a second, of course. He wasted no time,
but dived among the forest of legs about him and disappeared. In
another moment he could not have been harder to find, under that
tossing sea of life, if its billows had been the Atlantic's and he a lost
sixpence.
' HE WASTED NO TIME. '
He very soon realised this fact,
and straightway busied himself about
his own affairs without further thought
of John Canty. He quickly realised
another thing, too. To wit, that a
spurious Prince of Wales was being
feasted by the city in his stead. He easily concluded that the pauper
lad, Tom Canty, had deliberately taken advantage of his stupendous
opportunity and become a usurper.
See Note 6, at end of volume.
THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS. 'J'J
Therefore there was but one course to pursue find his way to
the Guildhall, make himself known, and denounce the impostor. He
also made up his mind that Tom should be allowed a reasonable time
for spiritual preparation, and then be hanged, drawn and quartered,
according to the law and usage of the day, in cases of high treason.
H 2
. J
: . < ' : ;
' ' ! ' ' . " . .
... , ... S ,
Jw s
, c.:- *; -'
".'' i!i
103
CHAPTER XI.
AT GUILDHALL.
THE royal barge, attended by its gorgeous fleet, took its stately way
down the Thames through the wilderness of illuminated boats. The
air was laden with music; the river banks were beruffled with joy-
flames; the distant city lay in a soft luminous glow from its countless
invisible bonfires ; above it rose many a slender spire into the sky,
incrusted with sparkling lights, wherefore in their remoteness they
seemed like jewelled lances thrust aloft ; as the fleet swept along, it
was greeted from the banks with a continuous hoarse roar of cheers
and the ceaseless flash and boom of artillery.
To Tom Canty, half buried in his silken cushions, these sounds
and this spectacle were a wonder unspeakably sublime and astonishing.
To his little friends at his side, the Princess Elizabeth and the Lady
Jane Grey, they were nothing.
Arrived at the Dowgate, the fleet was towed up the limpid Wai-
brook (whose channel has now been for two centuries buried out of
sight under acres of buildings,) to Bucklersbury, past houses and
under bridges populous with merry-makers and brilliantly lighted,
and at last came to a halt in a basin where now is Barge Yard, in the
centre of the ancient city of London. Tom disembarked, and he and
his gallant procession crossed Cheapside and made a short march
through the Old Jewry and Basinghall Street to the Guildhall.
Tom and his little ladies were received with due ceremony by the
Lord Mayor and the Fathers of the City, in their gold chains and
104
AT GUILDHALL.
scarlet robes of state, and conducted to a rich canopy of estate at the
head of the great hall, preceded by heralds making proclamation, and
by the Mace and the City Sword. The lords
and ladies who were to attend upon Tom and
his two small friends took their places behind
their chairs.
At a lower table the court grandees and
other guests of noble de-
gree were seated, with the
4 iV
magnates of the city ; the
commoners took places at
a multitude of tables on
the main floor of the hall.
From their lofty vantage-
ground, the giants Gog
and Magog, the ancient
guardians of the
city, contemplat-
ed the spectacle
below them with
eyes grown fa-
miliar to it
in forgotten
\ ;-, . ;i / 1 ww
.
:
"A KICK CANOPY OF STATE.
generations. There was a bugle-blast
and a proclamation, and a fat butler
'ppeared in a high perch in the leftward wall, followed by his servitors
bearing with impressive solemnity a royal Baron of Beef, smoking
hot and ready for the knife.
a
AT GUILDHALL. 105
After grace, Tom (being instructed) rose and the whole house
with him and drank from a portly golden loving-cup with the Princess
Elizabeth; from her it passed to the Lady Jane, and then traversed
the general assemblage. So the banquet began.
By midnight the revelry was at its height. Xow came one of those
picturesque spectacles so admired in that old day. A description of it
is still extant in the quaint wording of a chronicler who witnessed it :
" Space being made, presently entered a baron and an earl ap-
pareled after the Turkish fashion in long robes of bawdkin powdered
with gold ; hats on their heads of crimson velvet, with great rolls of
gold, girded with two sw r ords, called scimitars, hanging by great bawd-
ricks of gold. Next came yet another baron and another earl, in two
long gowns of yellow satin, traversed with white satin, and in every
bend of white was a bend of crimson satin, after the fashion of Russia,
with furred hats of gray on their heads; either of them having an
hatchet in their hands, and boots with pykes "' (points a foot long),
" turned up. And after them came a knight, then the Lord High
Admiral, and with him five nobles, in doublets of crimson velvet,
voyded low on the back and before to the cannell-bone, laced on the
breasts with chains of silver ; and, over that, short cloaks of crimson
satin, and on their heads hats after the dancers' fashion, w r ith phea-
sants' feathers in them. These were appareled after the fashion of
Prussia. The torch-bearers, which were about an hundred, were ap-
pareled in crimson satin and green, like Moors, their faces black.
Next came in a mommarye. Then the minstrels, which were dis-
guised, danced ; and the lords and ladies did wildly dance also, that
it was a pleasure to behold."
And while Tom, in his high seat, was gazing upon this "wild"
dancing, lost in admiration of the dazzling commingling of kaleido-
scopic colours which the whirling turmoil of gaudy figures below him
presented, the ragged but real little Prince of "Wales was -proclaiming
his rights and his wrongs, denouncing the impostor, and clamouring for
admission at the gates of Guildhall ! The crowd enjoyed this episode
106 AT GUILDHALL.
prodigiously, and pressed forward and craned their necks to see the
small rioter. Presently they began to taunt him and mock at him,
purposely to goad him into a higher and still more entertaining fury.
Tears of mortification sprang to his eyes, but he stood his ground and
defied the mob right royally. Other taunts followed, added mockings
stung him, and he exclaimed
" I tell ye again, you pack of unmannerly curs, I am the Prince
of Wales ! And all forlorn and friendless as I be, with none to give
me word of grace or help me in my need, yet will not I be driven from
my ground, but will maintain it ! '
" Though thou be prince or no prince, 'tis all one, thou be'st a
gallant lad, and not friendless neither ! Here stand I by thy side to
prove it ; and mind I tell thee thou might'st have a worser friend than
Miles Hendon and yet not tire thy legs with seeking. Rest thy small
jaw, my child ; I talk the language of these base kennel-rats like to a
very native."
The speaker was a sort of Don Caesar de Bazan in dress, aspect r
and bearing. He was tall, trim-built, muscular. His doublet and
trunks were of rich material, but faded and threadbare, and their
gold-lace adornments were sadly tarnished ; his ruff was rumpled and
damaged ; the plume in his slouched hat was broken and had a be-
draggled and disreputable look ; at his side he wore a long rapier in
a rusty iron sheath ; his swaggering carriage marked him at once as a
ruffler of the camp. The speech of this fantastic figure was received
with an explosion of jeers and laughter. Some cried, " 'Tis another
prince in disguise ! ' " 'Ware thy tongue, friend, belike he is danger-
ous 1 " " Marry, he looketh it mark his eye ! ' " Pluck the lad
from him to the horse-pond wi' the cub ! '
Instantly a hand was laid upon the prince, under the impulse of
this happy thought; as instantly the stranger's long sword was out
and the meddler went to the earth under a sounding thump with the
flat of it. The next moment a score of voices shouted " Kill the dog !
kill him ! kill him ! " and the mob closed in on the warrior, who
backed himself against a wall and began to lay about him with his
AT GUILDHALL.
107
long weapon like a madman. His victims sprawled this way and that,
but the mob-tide poured over their prostrate forms and dashed itself
against the champion with undiminished fury. His moments seemed
numbered, his destruction certain, when suddenly a trumpet-blast
sounded, a voice shouted, " Way for the king's messenger ! " and a
: U'i
'
" BEGAX TO LAY ABOUT HIM.
troop of horsemen came charging down upon the mob, who fled out
of harm's reach as fast as their legs could carry them. The bold
stranger caught up the prince in his arms, and was soon far away from
danger and the multitude.
Eeturn we within the Guildhall. Suddenly, high above the jubilant
roar and thunder of the revel, broke the clear peal of a bugle-note.
108
AT GUILDHALL.
There was instant silence, a deep hush ; then a single voice rose
that of the messenger from the palace and began to pipe forth a
proclamation, the whole
multitude standing, list-
ening.
The closing words,
solemnly pronounced,
were
" The king is dead ! "
The great assemblage
bent their heads upon
their breasts with one
1 accord ; remained so, in
^~ ^
profound silence, a few
V.N
LONG LIVE THE KING !
moments ; then all sank upon their knees in a body, stretched out their
AT GUILDHALL. 10D
hands tOAvard Tom, and a mighty shout burst forth that seemed t(
shake the building
" Long live the king ! ' :
Poor Tom's dazed eyes wandered abroad over this stupefying spec-
tacle, and finally rested dreamily upon the kneeling princesses beside
him, a moment, then upon the Earl of Hertford. A sudden purpose
dawned in his face. He said, in a low tone, at Lord Hertford's ear
"Answer me truly, on thy faith and honour! Uttered I here a
command, the which none but a king might hold privilege and prero-
gative to utter, Avould such commandment be obeyed, and none rise up
to say me nay ? '
"None, my liege, in all these realms. In thy person bides the
majesty of England. Thou art the king thy word is law."
Tom responded, in a strong, earnest voice, and with great anima-
tion
" Then shall the king's law be law of mercy, from this day, and
never more be law of blood ! Up from thy knees and away ! To the
Tower and say the king decrees the Duke of Norfolk shall not die ! " }
The words were caught up and carried eagerly from lip to lip far
and wide over the hall, and as Hertford hurried from the presence,
another prodigious shout burst forth
''The reign of blood is ended! Long live Edward, King cf
England ! "
1 See Note 7, at end of volume.
^ p-
^ec<^^
li::
CHAPTEK XII.
THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVEUEH.
As soon as Allies Hendon and the little prince were clear of the
mob, they struck down through back lanes and alleys toward the
river. Their way was unobstructed until they approached London
Bridge ; then they ploughed into the multitude again, Hendon keeping
a fast grip upon the prince's no, the King's wrist. The tremen-
dous news was already abroad, and the boy learned it from a thousand
voices at once " The King is dead ! " The tidings struck a chill to
the heart of the poor little waif, and sent a shudder through his frame.
He realised the greatness of his loss, and was filled with a bitter grief;
for the grim tyrant who had been such a terror to others had always
been gentle with him. The tears sprang to his eyes and blurred all
objects. For an instant he felt himself the most forlorn, outcast, and
forsaken of God's creatures then another cry shook the night with
its far-reaching thunders : " Long live King Edward the Sixth ! " and
this made his eyes kindle, and thrilled him with pride to his fingers'
ends. " Ah," he thought, " how grand and strange it seems I AM
KING ! "
Our friends threaded their way slowly through the throngs upon
the Bridge. This structure, which had stood for six hundred years,
and had been a noisy and populous thoroughfare all that time, was a
curious affair, for a closely packed rank of stores and shops, with
family quarters overhead, stretched along both sides of it, from one
bank of the river to the other. The Bridge was a sort of town to
114
THE PRINCE AM) HIS DELIVERER.
itself; it had its inn, its beer-houses, its bakeries, its haberdasheries,
its food markets, its manufacturing industries, and even its church. It
looked upon the two neighbours which it linked together London and
\
OUR FRIENDS THREADED THEIR WAY.
Southwark as being well enough, as suburbs, but not otherwise par-
ticularly important. It was a close corporation, so to speak ; it was a
narrow town, of a single street a fifth of a mile long, its population
was [but a village population, and everybody in it knew all his fellow-
THE PllIXCE AXD HIS DELIVERER. 115
townsmen intimately, and had known their fathers and mothers before
them and all their little family affairs into the bargain. It had its
aristocracy, of course its fine old families of butchers, and bakers,
and what-not, who had occupied the same old premises for five or six
hundred years, and knew the great history of the Bridge from begin-
ning to end, and all its strange legends ; and who always talked bridgy
talk, and thought bridgy thoughts, and lied in a long, level, direct,
substantial bridgy way. It was just the sort of population to be
narrow and ignorant and self-conceited. Children were born on the
Bridge, were reared there, grew to old age and finally died without
ever having set a foot upon any part of the world but London Bridge
alone. Such people would naturally imagine that the mighty and
interminable procession which moved through its street night and day,
with its confused roar of shouts and cries, its neighings and bellowings
and bleatings and its muffled thunder-tramp, was the one great thing
in this world, and themselves somehow the proprietors of it. And so
they were, in effect at least they could exhibit it from their win-
dows, and did for a consideration whenever a returning king or
hero gave it a fleeting splendour, for there was no place like it for
affording a long, straight, uninterrupted view of marching columns.
Men born and reared upon the Bridge found life unendurably dull
and inane elsewhere. History tells of one of these who left the Bridge
at the age of seventy-one and retired to the country. But he could
only fret and toss in his bed ; he could not go to sleep, the deep still-
ness was so painful, so awful, so oppressive. When he was worn out
with it, at last, he fled back to his old home, a lean and haggard
spectre, and fell peacefully to rest and pleasant dreams under the lull-
ing music of the lashing waters and the boom and crash and thunder of
London Bridge.
In the times of which we are writing, the Bridge furnished " object
lessons" in English history, for its children namely, the livid and
decaying heads of renowned men impaled upon iron spikes atop of its
gateways. But we digress.
T 2
IK;
THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVEliEIt.
Hendon's lodgings were in the little inn on the Bridge. As he
neared the door with his small friend, a rough voice said-
" So, thou'rt come at last ! Thou'lt not escape again, I warrant
thee ; and if pounding thy bones to a pudding can teach thee somewhat,
thou'lt not keep us waiting another time, mayhap " -and John Canty
put out his hand to seize the boy.
Miles Hendon stepped in the way and said
" Not too fast, friend. Thou art needlessly rough, methinks. What
is the lad to thee ? "
"If it be any business
of thine to make and meddle
in others' affairs, he is my
son."
" 'Tis a lie ! " cried the
little King, hotly.
" Boldly said, and I
believe thee, whether thy
small head-piece be sound
or cracked, my boy. But
whether this scurvy ruffian
be thy father or no, 'tis all
one, he shall not have thee
to beat thee and abuse, ac-
" OBJECT LESSONS" IN ENGLISH HISTORY. cording to his threat, so thou
prefer to bide with me."
" I do, I do -I know him not, I loathe him, and Avill die before I
will go with him."
" Then 'tis settled, and there is nought more to say."
" We will see, as to that ! " exclaimed John Canty, striding past
Hendon to get at the boy ; "by force shall he- "
" If thou do but touch him, thou animated offal, I will spit thee
like a goose ! " said Hendon, barring the way and laying his hand upon
his sword hilt. Canty drew back. " Now mark ye," continued Hen-
don, " I took this lad under my protection when a mob of such as thou
i
117
would have mishandled him, mayhap killed him ; dost imagine I will
desert him now to a worser fate? for whether them art his father or
no and sooth to say, I think it is a lie a decent swift death were
better for such a lad than life in such brute hands as thine. So go thy
1 .1OHN CANTY MoVKD OFF.
ways, and set quick about it, for I like not much bandying of words,
being not over-patient in my nature."
John Canty moved off, muttering threats and curses, and was
swallowed from sight in the crowd. Hendon ascended three flights of
stairs to his room, with his charge, after ordering a meal to be sent
thither. It was a poor apartment, with a shabby bed and some odds
118 THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVERER.
and ends of old furniture in it, and was vaguely lighted by a couple of
sickly candles. The little king dragged himself to the bed and lay down
upon it, almost exhausted with hunger and fatigue. He had been on
his feet a good part of a day and a night, for it was now two or three
o'clock in the morning, and had eaten nothing meantime. He murmured
drowsily
" Prithee call me when the table is spread," and sunk into a deep
sleep immediately.
A smile twinkled in Hendon's eye, and he said to himself
" By the mass, the little beggar takes to one's quarters and usurps
one's bed with as natural and easy a grace as if he owned them with
never a by-your-leave or so-please-it-you, or any thing of the sort. In
his diseased ravings he called himself the Prince of Wales, and bravely
doth he keep up the character. Poor little friendless rat, doubtless his
mind has been disordered with ill-usage. Well, I will be his friend ;
I have saved him, and it draweth me strongly to him ; already I love
the bold-tongued little rascal. How soldier-like he faced the smutty
rabble and flung back his high defiance ! And what a comely, sweet
and gentle face he hath, now that sleep hath conjured away its troubles
and its griefs. I will teach him, I will cure his malady ; yea, I will be
his elder brother, and care for him and watch over him; and whoso
would shame him or do him hurt, may order his shroud, for though I
be burnt for it he shall need it ! >:
He bent over the boy and contemplated him with kind and pitying
interest, tapping the young cheek tenderly and smoothing back the
tangled curls with his great brown hand. A slight shiver passed over
the boy's form. Hendon muttered
" See, now, how like a man it was to let him lie here uncovered
and fill his body with deadly rheums. Now what shall I do ? 'twill
wake him to take him up and put him within the bed, and he sorely
needeth sleep."
He looked about for extra covering, but finding none, doffed his
doublet and wrapped the lad in it, saying, " I am used to nipping air
and scant apparel, 'tis little I shall mind the cold" then walked up
THE PinXCE AXD HIS DELIVERER.
119
and do\vn the room, to keep his blood in motion, soliloquising, as
before.
" His injured mind persuades him he is Prince of Wales ; 'twill be
odd to have a Prince of Wales still with us, now that he that was the
prince is prince no more, but king, for this poor mind is set upon the
one fantasy, and will not reason out that now it should cast by the
TANGLED CURLS.
f the king. . . .
If my father liveth still, after these
eeven years that I have heard nought
from home in my foreign dungeon,
he will welcome the poor lad and give him generous shelter for my
sake ; so will my good elder brother, Arthur ; my other brother, Hugh
but I will crack his crown, an' he interfere, the fox-hearted, ill-
conditioned animal ! Yes, thither will we fare and straightway, too."
A servant entered with a smoking meal, disposed it upon a small
deal table, placed the chairs, and took his departure, leaving such cheap
120 TILE PRINCE AXD HIS DELIVERER.
lodgers as these to wait upon themselves. The door slammed after him,
and the noise woke the boy, who sprang to a sitting posture, and shot
a glad glance about him ; then a grieved look came into his face and he
murmured, to himself, with a deep sigh, " Alack, it was but a dream,
woe is me." Next he noticed Miles Hendon's doublet glanced from
that to Hendon, comprehended the sacrifice that had been made for him,
and said, gently
" Thou art good to me, yes, thou art very good to me. Take it and
put it on I shall not need it more."
Then he got up and walked to the washstand in the corner, and
stood there, waiting. Hendou said in a cheery voice
" We'll have a right hearty sup and bite, now, for every thing is
savoury and smoking hot, and that and thy nap together will make thee
a little man again, never fear ! '
The boy made no answer, but bent a steady look, that was filled
with grave surprise, and also somewhat touched with impatience, upon
the tall knight of the sword. Hendon was puzzled, and said
" What's amiss ? "
" Good sir, I would wash me."
" Oh, is that all ! Ask no permission of Miles Hendon for aught
thou cravest. Make thyself perfectly free here, and welcome, with all
that are his belongings."
Still the boy stood, and moved not ; more, he tapped the floor once
or twice with his small impatient foot. Hendon was wholly perplexed.
Said he
" Bless us, what is it ? '
" Prithee pour the water, and make not so many words ! '
Hendon, suppressing a horse-laugh, and saying to himself, " By all
the saints, but this is admirable ! ' ' stepped briskly forward and did the
small insolent's bidding ; then stood by, in a sort of stupefaction, until
the command, " Come the towel ! " woke him sharply up. He took
up a towel, from under the boy's nose, and handed it to him without
comment. He now proceeded to comfort his own face with a wash,
and while he was at it his adopted child seated himself at the table and
THE PlU-\( J: AMJ JUS DELI YJ-:ii Kit.
121
prepared to fall to. Hen don despatched his ablutions with alacrity,
then drew back the other chair and was about to place himself at table,
when the boy said, indignantly
" Forbear ! Wouldst sit in the presence of the King ? '
This blow staggered Hendon to his foundations. He muttered to
himself, " Lo, the poor thing's madness is up with the time ! it hath
changed with the great change that is come to the n-nlm, and now in
\ ,
fancy is he king ! Good
lack, I must humour the
I
conceit, too there is no
other way faith, he
would order me to the
Tower, else ! "
And pleased with this
jest, he removed the chair
from the table, took his stand behind the King, and proceeded to wait
upon him in the courtliest way he was capable of.
While the King ate the rigour of his royal dignity relaxed a little,
and with his growing contentment came a desire to talk. He said " I
think thou callest thyself Miles Hendon, if I heard thee aright? "
" Yes, Sire," Miles replied ; then observed to himself, " If I must
PRITHEE, POUE THE WATER.''
122
THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVERER.
humour the poor lad's madness, I must sire him, I must majesty him, I
must not go by halves, I must stick at nothing that belongeth to the
part I play, else shall I play it ill and work evil to this charitable and
kindly cause."
The King warmed his heart with a second glass of wine, and said
" I would know thee tell me thy story. Thou hast a gallant way
with thee, and a noblp art nobly born ? "
" We are of the tail of the
!, nobility, good your Majesty.
A My father is a baronet one
of the smaller lords by knight
"GO ON TELL ME THY STOKY.
service -Sir Richard Hendon r
of Hendon Hall, by Monk's Holm in Kent."
" The name has escaped my memory. Go on tell me thy story."
" 'Tis not much, your Majesty, yet perchance it may beguile a short
half -hour for want of a better. My father, Sir Richard, is very rich,
and of a most generous nature. My mother died whilst I was yet
1 He refers to the order of baronets, or baronettes ; the barones minores, as-
distinct from the parliamentary barons not, it need hardly be said, to the baronets
of later creation.
TIII-: rit r. \ri-: A. YD HIS DELIVI-:IU:H. 12:1
a boy. I have two brothers : Arthur, my elder, with a soul like to his.
father's ; and Hugh, younger than I, a mean spirit, covetous, treacher-
ous, vicious, underhanded a reptile. Such was he from the cradle ;.
such was he ten years past, when I last saw him a ripe rascal at nine-
teen, I being twenty, then, and Arthur twenty-two. There is none-
other of us but the Lady Edith, my cousin she was sixteen, then-
beautiful, gentle, good, the daughter of an earl, the last of her race,,
heiress of a great iortune and a lapsed title. My father was her
guardian. I loved her and she loved me ; but she was betrothed to
Arthur from the cradle, and Sir Richard would not suffer the contract
to be broken. Arthur loved another maid, and bade us be of good
cheer and hold fast to the hope that delay and luck together would
some day give success to our several causes. Hugh loved the Lady
Edith's fortune, though in truth he said it was herself he loved but
then 'twas his way, alway, to say the one thing and mean the other.
But he lost his arts upon the girl ; he could deceive my father, but
none else. My father loved him best of us all, and trusted and be-
lieved him ; for he was the youngest child, and others hated him
these qualities being in all ages sufficient to win a parent's dearest,
love ; and he had a smooth persuasive tongue, with an admirable gift
of lying and these be qualities which do mightily assist a blind affec-
tion to cozen itself. I was wild in troth I might go yet farther and
say very wild, though 'twas a wildness of an innocent sort, since it
hurt none but me, brought shame to none, nor loss, nor had in it any
taint of crime or baseness, or what might not beseem mine honourable
degree.
" Yet did my brother Hugh turn these faults to good account
he seeing that our brother Arthur's health was but indifferent, and
hoping the worst might work him profit were I swept out of the path,
so, but 'twere a long tale, good my liege, and little worth the
telling. Briefly, then, this brother did deftly magnify my faults and
make them crimes ; ending his base work with finding a silken ladder
in mine apartments conveyed thither by his own means and did'
convince my father by this, and suborned evidence of servants and/ 1
S24 THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVERED.
other lying knaves, that I was minded to carry off my Edith and rnarry
with her, in rank defiance of his will.
" Three years of banishment from home and England might make
a soldier and a man of me, my father said, and teach me some degree
of wisdom. I fought out my long probation in the continental wars,
tasting sumptuously of hard knocks, privation, and adventure ; but in
my last battle I was taken captive, and during the seven years that
have waxed and waned since then, a foreign dungeon hath harboured
me. Through wit and courage I won to the free air at last, and fled
hither straight ; and am but just arrived, right poor in purse and
caiment, and poorer still in knowledge of what these dull seven years
have wrought at Hendon Hall, its people and belongings. So please
you, sir, my meagre tale is told."
" Thou hast been shamefully abused ! " said the little King, with a
flashing eye, " But I will right thee by the cross will I ! The King
hath said it."
Then, fired by the story of Miles's wrongs, he loosed his tongue and
poured the history of his own recent misfortunes into the ears of his
astonished listener. When he had finished, Miles said to himself
" Lo, what an imagination he hath ! Verily, this is no common
mind ; else, crazed or sane, it could not weave so straight and gaudy a
tale as this out of the airy nothings wherewith it hath wrought this
curious romaunt. Poor ruined little head, it shall not lack friend or
shelter whilst I bide with the living. He shall never leave my side ;
he shall be my pet, my little comrade. And he shall be cured ! ay,
made whole and sound then will he make himself a name and proud
shall I be to say, * Yes, he is mine I took him, a homeless little raga-
muffin, but I saw what was in him, and I said his name would be heard
some day behold him, observe him was I right ? '
The King spoke in a thoughtful, measured voice
" Thou didst save me injury and shame, perchance my life, and so
r .ny crown. Such service demandeth rich reward. Name thy desire,
and so it be within the compass of my royal power, it is thine."
This fantastic suggestion startled Hendon out of his reverie. He
THE P1UXCE AXD HIS DEI. IV Eli Kit.
125
was about to thank the King and put the matter aside with saying he had
only done his duty and desired no reward, but a wiser thought came
into his head, and he asked leave to be silent a few moments and con-
sider the gracious offer an idea which the King gravely approved,
"THOU HAST BEEN SHAMEIULLY ABUSED!'
remarking that it was best to be not too hasty with a thing of such
great import.
Miles reflected during some moments, then said to himself, " Yes,
that is the thing to do by any other means it were impossible to get
at it and certes, this hour's experience has taught me 'twould be
most wearing and inconvenient to continue it as it is. Yes, I will
126
THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVERER.
propose it ; 'twas a happy accident that I did not throw the chance
away." Then he dropped upon one knee and said-
"My poor service went not beyond the limit of a subject's simple
duty, and therefore hath no merit ; but since your Majesty is pleased
to hold it worthy some reward, I take heart of grace to make petition
to this effect. Near four hundred years ago, as your grace knoweth,
'. &
"
' >\ v v .
.\ < \
HE DROPPED ON ONE KNEE.
there being ill blood betwixt John, King of England, and the King of
France, it was decreed that two champions should fight together in the
lists, and so settle the dispute by what is called the arbitrament of
God. These two kings, and the Spanish king, being assembled to
witness and judge the conflict, the French champion appeared ; but so
redoubtable was he, that our English knights refused to measure
mi: I>L'I-\C]; _LY/> ins DELIVEUKII. 127
weapons with him. So the matter, which was a weighty one, was like
to go against the English monarch by default. Now in the Tower lay
the Lord de Courcy, the mightiest arm in England, .stripped of his
honours and possessions, and wasting with long captivity. Appeal was
made to him ; he gave assent, and came forth arrayed ibr battle; but
no sooner did the Frenchman glimpM.' his huge frame and hear his
famous name but he fled away, and the French king's cause was lost.
King John restored De Courcy's titles and possessions, and said, ' Name
thy wish and thou shalt have it, though it cost me half my kingdom; '
whereat De Courcy, kneeling, as I do now, made answer, ; This, then,
I ask, my liege ; that I and my successors may have and hold the
privilege of remaining covered in the presence of the kings of England,
henceforth while the throne shall last.' The boon w r as granted, as
your Majesty knoweth ; and there hath been no time, these four
hundred years, that that line has failed of an heir ; and so, even
unto this d;iy, the h..-ad of that ancient house still weareth his hat or
helm before the king's majesty, without let or hindrance, and this
none other may do. 1 Invoking this precedent in aid of my prayer,
I beseech the King to grant to me but this one grace and privilege
to my more than sufficient reward and none other, to wit : that
1 and my heirs, for ever, may sit in the presence of the Majesty of
England ! "
" liise, Sir Miles Hendon, Knight," said the King, gravely giving
the accolade with Hendon's sword "rise, and seat thyself. Thy
petition is granted. Whilst England remains, and the crown continues,
the privilege shall not lapse.''
His Majesty walked apart, musing, and Hendon dropped into a
chair at table, observing to himself, " 'Twas a brave thought, and hath
wrought me a mighty deliverance ; my legs are grievously wearied.
An' I had not thought of that, 1 must have had to stand for weeks,
till my poor lad's wits are cured." After a little, he went on, " And so
I am become a knight of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows ! A
1 The lords of Kingsale, descendants of De Courcy, still enjoy this curious
privilege.
128
THE PRINCE AND HIS DELIVERER.
most odd and strange position, truly, for one so matter-of-fact as I. I
will not laugh no, God forbid, for this thing which is so substanceless
RISE, SIR MILES HENDOK.
to me is real to him. And
to me, also, in one way, it is
not a falsity, for it reflects with
truth the sweet and generous
spirit that is in him." After
a pause : " Ah, what if he
should call me by my fine
title before folk ! there'd be
a merry contrast betwixt my
glory and my raiment ! But no matter, let him call me what he will,
so it please him ; I shall be content."
CHAPTER XI [I.
THE DISAITKAUANCE OF THE PRINCE.
A HEAVY drowsiness presently fell upon the two comrades. The King
said
' c Remove these rags " -meaning his clothing.
Hendon disapparelled the boy without dissent or remark, tucked him
up in bed, then glanced about the room, saying to himself, ruefully,
" He hath taken my bed again, as before marry, what shall /do?"
The little King observed his perplexity, and dissipated it with a word.
He said, sleepily
" Thou wilt sleep athwart the door, and guard it." In a moment
more he was out of his troubles, in a deep slumber.
" Dear heart, he should have been born a king ! " muttered Hendon,
admiringly ; " he playeth the part to a marvel."
Then he stretched himself across the door, on the floor, saying con-
tentedly
" I have lodged worse for seven years ; 'twould be but ill gratitude
to Him above to find fault with this."
He dropped asleep as the dawn appeared. Toward noon he rose,
uncovered his unconscious ward a section at a time and took bis
measure with a string. The King awoke, just as he had completed his
work, complained of the cold, and asked what he was doing.
" 'Tis done, now, my liege," said Hendon ; "I have a bit of busi-
ness outside, but will presently return ; sleep thou again thou
K2
132
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PRINCE.
needest it. There let me cover thy head also thou'lt be warm
the sooner."
The King was back in dreamland before this speech was ended.
Miles slipped softly out, and slipped as softly in again, in the course of
thirty or forty minutes, with a complete second-hand suit of boy's
clothing, of cheap material, and showing signs of wear ; but tidy, and
suited to the season of the year. He seated himself, and began to
overhaul his purchase, mumbling to himself
" A longer purse would have got a better sort, but when one 1ms
' f ^^^rir^fiSFnft
" HE DROPPKD
not the long purse one must be content with what a short one may
do
" ' There was a woman in our town,
In our town did dwell
" He stirred, methinks I must sing in a less thunderous key ;
'tis not good to niar his sleep, with this journey before him and he
so wearied out, poor chap. . . . This garment 'tis well enough a
stitch here and another one there will set it aright. This other is
better, albeit a stitch or two will not come amiss in it, likewise. . . .
These be very good and sound, and will keep his small feet warm and
dry an odd new thing to him, belike, since he has doubtless been
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PRINCE.
133
used to foot it bare, winters and summers the same. . . . Would
threaotwere bread, seeing one gettetli a year's sufficiency for a far-
thing, and such a brave big needle without cost, for mere love. Now
shall I have the demon's own time to thread it ! "
" THESE BE VERY GOOD AXD SOUND.
And so he had. He did as men have always done, and probably
always will do, to the end of time held the needle still, and tried to
thrust the thread through the eye, which is the opposite of a woman's
way. Time and time again the thread missed the mark, going some-
13-1 THE DISAPPEARANCE OF 1HE PRINCE.
times on one side of the needle, sometimes on the other, sometimes
doubling up against the shaft ; but he was patient, having been
through these experiences before, when he was soldiering. He succeeded
at last, and took up the garment that had lain waiting, meantime, across
his lap, and began his work.
" The inn is paid the breakfast that is to come, included and
there is wherewithal left to buy a couple of donkeys and meet our
little costs for the two or three days betwixt this and the plenty that
awaits us at Hendon Hall
'"She loved her hus-
" Body o' me ! I have driven the needle under my nail ! ... It
matters little 'tis not a novelty yet 'tis not a convenience, neither.
. . . We shall be merry there, little one, never doubt it ! Thy
troubles will vanish, there, and likewise thy sad distemper
" ' She loved her husband dearilee,
But another man
" These be noble large stitches ! '' holding the garment up and
viewing it admiringly " they have a grandeur and a majesty that do
cause these small stingy ones of the tailor-man to look mightily paltry
and plebeian
" ' She loved her husband dearilee,
But another man he loved she,
" Marry, 'tis done a goodly piece of work, too, and wrought with
expedition. Now will I wake him, apparel him, pour for him, feed
him, and then will we hie us to the mart by the Tabard inn in South -
wark and be pleased to rise, my liege ! he answereth not what
ho, my liege ! of a truth must I profane his sacred person with a
touch, sith his slumber is deaf to speech. What ! '
He threw back the covers the boy was gone !
He stared about him in speechless astonishment for a moment ;
noticed for the first time that his ward's ragged raiment was also miss-
ing, then he began to rage and storm, and shout for the innkeeper*
At that moment a servant entered with the breakfast.
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PRIXCE.
135
" Explain, thou limb of Satan, or thy time is come ! " roared the
man of war, and made so savage a spring toward the waiter that this
latter could not find his tongue, for the instant, for fright and surprise.
u Where is the bov ? "
KXl'LAIN, THOU LIMB OB
SATAN."
In disjointed and
trembling syllables the
man gave the informa-
tion desired.
u You were hardly
gone from the place,
your worship, when a
youth came running and
said it was your wor-
ship's will that the boy
come to you straight, at the bridge-end on the Southwark side. I
brought him hither ; and when he woke the lad and gave his message,
136 THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PRINCE.
the lad did grumble some little for being disturbed ' so early,' as he
called it, but straightway trussed on his rags and went with the youth >
only saying it had been better manners that your worship came your-
self, not sent a stranger and so
" And so thou'rt a fool ! a fool, and easily cozened hang all thy
breed ! Yet mayhap no hurt is done. Possibly no harm is meant the
boy. I will go fetch him. Make the table ready. Stay ! the cover-
ings of the bed were disposed as if one lay beneath them happened
that by accident ? '
" I know not, good your worship. I saw the youth meddle with
them he that came for the boy."
" Thousand deaths ! 'twas done to deceive me 'tis plain 'twas
done to gain time. Hark ye ! Was that youth alone ? '
" All alone, your worship."
"Art sure?"
" Sure, your worship."
" Collect thy scattered wits bethink thee take time, man."
After a mqment's thought, the servant said
" When he came, none came with him ; but now I remember me
that as the two stepped into the throng of the Bridge, a ruffian-looking
man plunged out from some near place; and just as he was joining
them-
"What then ? out with it ! " thundered the impatient Hendon,.
interrupting.
" Just then the crowd lapped them up and closed them in, and I
saw no more, being called by my master, who was in a rage because a
joint that the scrivener had ordered was forgot, though I take all the
saints to witness that to blame me for that miscarriage were like hold-
ing the unborn babe to judgment for sins com
" Out of my sight, idiot ! Thy prating drives me mad ! Hold !'
whither art flying ? Canst not bide still an instant ? Went they
toward Southwark ? '
" Even so, your worship for, as I said before, as to that detest-
able joint, the babe unborn is no whit more blameless than
: DISM'PEARAXCE OF THE PltlXCE.
137
" Art here yet .' And prating still ? Vanish, lest I throttle thee ! "
The servitor vanished. Hendon followed after him, passed him,
and plunged down the stairs two steps at a stride, muttering, " Tis
that scurvy villain that
claimed he was his son.
I have lost thee, my
poor little mad master
it is a bitter thought
and I had come to
love thee so ! No ! by
book and bell, not lost !
Not lost, for I will ran-
sack the land till I find
thee again. Poor child,
yonder is his breakfast
and mine, but I ha\
no hunger now so, let
the rats have it speed.
speed ! that is the
word ! ' As he wormed
his swift way through
the noisy multitude^
upon the Bridge, hr
several times said to
himself clinging to the
thought as if it Avere a
particularly pleasing one
" He grumbled, but
he went he went, yes,
because he thought
Miles Hendon asked
it, sweet lad he would ne'er have done it for another, I know it
well."
t
HENDOX FOLLOWED AFTER HIM.
141
CHAPTER XIV.
" LE ROI EST MORT VIVE LE ROI."
TOWARD daylight o the same morning, Tom Canty stirred out of a
heavy sleep and opened his eyes in the dark. He lay silent a few
moments, trying to analyse his confused thoughts and impressions, ' and
get some sort of meaning out of them, then suddenly he burst out in
a rapturous but guarded voice
" I see it all, I see it all ! Now God be thanked, I am indeed
awake at last! Come, joy! vanish, sorrow ! Ho, Nan ! Bet! kick off
your straw and hie ye hither to my side, till I do pour into your un-
believing ears the wildest madcap dream that ever the spirits of night
did conjure up to astonish the soul of man withal ! . . . Ho, Nan, I say !
Bet!" . . .
A dim form appeared at his side, and a voice said
" Wilt deign to deliver thy commands ? '
"Commands? . . . O, woe is me, I know thy voice ! Speak, thou
who am I ? '
" Thou? In sooth, yesternight wert thou the Prince of Wales ; to-
day art thou my most gracious liege, Edward, King of England."
Tom buried his head among his pillows, murmuring plaintively
" Alack, it was no dream ! Go to thy rest, sweet sir leave me to
my sorrows."
Tom slept again, and after a time he had this pleasant dream. He
thought it was summer and he was playing, all alone, in the fair
142
"LE ROT EST MORTYIVE LE ROI."
meadow called Goodman's Fields, when a dwarf only a foot high, with
long red whiskers and a humped back, appeared to him suddenly and
said, " Dig by that stump." He did so, and found twelve bright new
pennies wonderful riches ! Yet this was not the best of it ; for the
dwarf said
"I know thee. Thou art a good lad, and a deserving; thy dis-
'WILT DEIfiN TO DELIVER THY COMMANDS
tresses shall end, for the day of thy reward is come. Dig here every
seventh day, and thou shalt find always the same treasure, twelve bright
new pennies. Tell none keep the secret."
Then the dwarf vanished, and Tom flew to Offal Court with his
prize, saying to himself, " Every night will I give my iather a penny :
he will think I begged it, it will glad his heart, and I shall no more be
1101 ESI UORTVIVE LE HOI" 143
beaten. One penny every week the good priest that teacheth me shall
have ; mother, Nan and Bet the other four. We be done with hunger
and rags, now, done with fears and frets and savage usage."
In his dream he reached his sordid home all out of breath, but with
eyes dancing with grateful enthusiasm ; cast four of his pennies into-
his mother's lap and cried out
''They are for thee ! all of them, every one ! for thee and Nan.
and Bet and honestly come by, not begged nor stolen ! '
The happy and astonished mother strained him to her breast and
exclaimed
" It waxeth late may it please your Majesty to rise? v
Ah ! that was not the answer he was expecting. The dream had
snapped asunder he was awake.
He opened his eyes the richly clad First Lord of the Bedchamber
was kneeling by his couch. The gladness of the lying dream faded
away the poor boy recognised that he was still a captive and a king.
The room was filled with courtiers clothed in purple mantles the
mourning colour and with noble servants of the monarch. Tom sat
O
up in bed and gazed out from the heavy silken curtains upon this fine-
company.
The weighty business of dressing began, and one courtier after
another knelt and paid his court and offered to the little King his con-
dolences upon his heavy loss, whilst the dressing proceeded. In the
beginning, a shirt was taken up by the Chief Equerry in Waiting, who
passed it to the First Lord of the Buckhormds, who passed it to the
Second Gentleman of the* Bedchamber, who passed it to the Head
Ranger of Windsor Forest, who passed it to the Third Groom of the
Stole, who passed it to the Chancellor Eoyal of the Duchy of Lancas-
ter, who passed it to the Master of the Wardrobe, who passed it to
Norroy King-at-Arms, who passed it to the Constable of the Tower,
who passed it to the 'Chief Steward of the Household, who passed it
to the Hereditary Grand Diaperer, who passed it to the Lord High
Admiral of England, who passed it to the Archbishop of Canterbury,
who passed it to the First Lord of the Bedchamber, who took what was--
"LE MO I EST X OUT VIVE Li:
left of it and put it on Tom. Poor little wondering chap, it reminded
him of passing buckets at a fire.
Each garment in its turn had to go through this slow and solemn
process; consequently Tom grew very weary of the ceremony; so
weary that he felt an almost gushing gratefulness when he at last saw
his long silken hose begin the journey down the line and knew that
the end of the matter was drawing near. But he exulted too soon.
The First Lord of the Bedchamber received the hose and was about to
encase Tom's legs in them, when a sudden flush invaded his face and
"THE FIRST LORD OF THE BEDCHAMBER RECEIVED THK HOSE."
he hurriedly hustled the things back into the hands of the Archbishop
o Canterbury with an astounded look and a whispered, " See, my
lord ! ' pointing to a something connected with the hose. The
Archbishop paled, then flushed, and passed the hose to the Lord High
Admiral, whispering, " See, my lord ! ' The Admiral passed the hose
to the Hereditary Grand Diaperer, and had hardly breath enough in
his body to ejaculate, " See, my lord ! 5: The hose drifted backward
along the line, to the Chief Steward of the Household, the Constable
of the Tower, Norroy Kirig-at-Arms, the Master of the Wardrobe, the
Chancellor Koyal o the Duchy of Lancaster, the Third Groom of the
"LE ROI EST MORTVIVE LE ROir 145
Stole, the Head Ranger of Windsor Forest, the Second Gentleman of
the Bedchamber, the First Lord of the Buckhounds, accompanied
always with that amazed and frightened " See ! see ! " till they
finally reached the hands of the Chief Equerry in Waiting, who gazed
a moment, with a pallid face, upon what had caused all this dismay,
then hoarsely whispered, " Body of my life, a tag gone from a truss-
point ! to the Tower with the Head Keeper of the King's Hose ! "
after which he leaned upon the shoulder of the First Lord of the Buck-
hounds to regather his vanished strength whilst fresh hose, without any
damaged strings to them, were brought.
But all things must have an end, and so in time Tom Canty was in
a condition to get out of bed. The proper official poured water, the
proper official engineered the washing, the proper official stood by with
a towel, and by-and-by Tom got safely through the purifying stage
and was ready for the services of the Hairdresser-royal. When he at
length emerged from this master's hands, he was a gracious figure and
as pretty as a girl, in his mantle and trunks of purple satin, and purple-
plumed cap. He now moved in state toward his breakfast-room, through
the midst of the courtly assemblage; and as he passed, these fell back,
leaving his way free, and dropped upon their knees.
After breakfast he was conducted, with regal ceremony, attended
by his great officers and his guard of fifty Gentlemen Pensioners bear-
ing gilt battle-axes, to the throne-room, where he proceeded to transact
business of state. His " uncle," Lord Hertford, took his stand by the
throne, to assist the royal mind with wise counsel.
The body of illustrious men named by the late King as his executors,
appeared, to ask Tom's approval of certain acts of theirs rather a form,
and yet not wholly a form, since there was no Protector as yet. The
Archbishop of Canterbury made report of the decree of the Council of
Executors concerning the obsequies of his late most illustrious Majesty,
and finished by reading the signatures of the Executors, to wit : the
Archbishop of Canterbury ; the Lord Chancellor of England ; William
Lord St. John ; John Lord Russell ; Edward Earl of Hertford ; John
Viscount Lisle ; Cuthbert Bishop of Durham
146 "LE E01 EST MORTVIVE LE ROL"
Tom was not listening an earlier clause of the document was puz-
zling him. At this point he turned and whispered to Lord Hertford
" What day did he say the burial hath been appointed for ? '
" The 16th of the coming month, my liege."
" 'Tis a strange folly. Will he keep ? "
Poor chap, he was still new to the customs of royalty ; he was used
to seeing the forlorn dead of Offal Court hustled out of the way with a
very different sort of expedition. However, the Lord Hertford set his
mind at rest with a word or two.
A secretary of state presented an order of the Council appointing
the morrow at eleven for the reception of the foreign ambassadors, and
desired the King's assent.
Tom turned ail inquiring look toward Hertford, who whispered
" Your Majesty will signify consent. They come to testify their
royal masters' sense of the heavy calamity which hath visited your grace
and the realm of England."
Tom did as he was bidden. Another secretary began to read a
preamble concerning the expenses of the late King's household, which
had amounted to 2S,OOOZ. during the preceding six months a sum so
vast that it made Tom Canty gasp ; he gasped again when the fact ap-
peared that 20,000/. of this money was still owing and unpaid ; 1 and
once more when it appeared that the King's coffers were about empty,
and his twelve hundred servants much embarrassed for lack of the
wages due them. Tom spoke out, with lively apprehension
" We be going to the dogs, 'tis plain. 'Tis meet and necessary that
we take a smaller house and set the servants at large, sith they be of no
value but to make delay, and trouble one with offices that harass the
spirit and shame the soul, they misbecoming any but a doll, that hath
nor brains nor hands to help itself withal. I remember me of a small
house that stand eth over against the fish-market, by Billingsgate "
A sharp pressure upon Tom's arm stopped his foolish tongue and
sent a blush to his face ; but no countenance there betrayed any sign
that this strange speech had been remarked or given concern.
1 Hume.
"LE HOI EST MORIVIVE LE ROI."
147
A secretary made report that forasmuch as the late King had pro-
vided in his will for conferring the ducal degree upon the Earl of
Hertford and raising his brother, Sir Thomas Seymour, to the peerage,
and likewise Hertford's son to an earldom, together with similar
aggrandisements to other great servants of the Crown, the Council had
" A SECRETARY" OF STATE PRESENTED AX ORDER.
resolved to hold a sitting on the 16th of February for the delivering
and confirming of these honours, and that meantime, the late King not
having granted, in writing, estates suitable to the support of these
dignities, the Council, knowing his private wishes in that regard, had
thought proper to grant to Seymour " 500<?. lands," and to Hertford's
L 2
148 "LE EOT EST MOETVIVE LE ROI"
son " 800 pound lands, and 300 pound of the next bishop's lands which
should fall vacant," -his present Majesty being willing. 1
Tom was about to blurt out something about the propriety of
paying the late King's debts first, before squandering all this money ;
but a timely touch upon his arm, from the thoughtful Hertford, saved
him this indiscretion ; wherefore he gave the royal assent, without
spoken comment, but with much inward discomfort. While he sat
reflecting, a moment, over the ease with which he was doing strange
and glittering miracles, a happy thought shot into his mind : why not
make his mother Duchess o Offal Court, and give her an estate ? But
a sorrowful thought swept it instantly away : he was only a king in
name, these grave veterans and great nobles were his masters ; to them
his mother was only the creature of a diseased mind ; they would
simply listen to his project with unbelieving ears, then send for the
doctor.
The dull work went tediously on. Petitions were read, and pro-
clamations, patents, and all manner of wordy, repetitious, and wearisome
papers relating to the public business ; and at last Tom sighed
pathetically and murmured to himself, " In what have I offended, that
the good God should take me away from the fields and the free air and
the sunshine, to shut me up here and make me a king and afflict me
so ? ' Then his poor muddled head nodded a while, and presently
drooped to his shoulder ; and the business of the empire came to a
standstill for want of that august factor, the ratifying power. Silence
ensued around the slumbering child, and the sages of the realm ceased
from their deliberations.
During the forenoon, Tom had an enjoyable hour, by permission
of his keepers, Hertford and St. John, with the Lady Elizabeth and the
little Lady Jane Grey ; though the spirits of the princesses were rather
subdued by the mighty stroke that had fallen upon the royal house ;
and at the end of the visit his " elder sister " -afterwards the " Bloody
Mary " of history chilled him with a solemn interview which had
but one merit in his eyes, its brevity. He had a few moments to him-
1 Hume.
"LE HOI EST MORIVIVE LE ROT."
149
self, and then a slim lad of about twelve years of age was admitted to
his presence, whose clothing, except his snowy ruff and the laces about
his wrists, was of black, doublet, hose and all. He bore no badge of
mourning but a knot of purple ribbon on his shoulder. He advanced
hesitatingly, with head bowed and bare, and dropped upon one knee in
front of Tom. Tom sat still and contemplated him soberly a moment.
Then he said
''THE BOY ROSE, AND STOOD AT GEACEtUL EASK.''
" Kise, lad. Who art thou ? What wouldst have ? "
The boy rose, and stood at graceful ease, but with an aspect of
concern in his face. He said
" Of a surety thou must remember me, my lord. I am thy whip-
ping-boy."
" My whippiny-'boy ? '
150 "LE It 01 EST MORTVIVE LE ROI."
11 The same, your grace. I am Humphrey Humphrey Marlow."
Tom perceived that here was someone whom his keepers ought
to have posted him about. The situation was delicate. What should
he do ? pretend he knew this lad, and then betray by his every
utterance, that he had never heard of him before ? No, that would
not do. An idea came to his relief: accidents like this might be
likely to happen with some frequency, now that business urgencies
would often call Hertford and St. John from his side, they being
members of the Council of Executors ; therefore perhaps it would be
well to strike out a plan himself to meet the requirements of such
emergencies. Yes, that would be a wise course he would practise on
this boy, and see what sort of success he might achieve. So he stroked
his brow, perplexedly, a moment or two, and presently said
" Now I seem to remember thee somewhat but my wit is clogged
and dim with suffering ' :
" Alack, my poor master ! ' ejaculated the whipping-boy, with
feeling; adding, to himself, "In truth 'tis as they said his mind is
gone a l aS) poor soul ! But misfortune catch me, how am I forgetting !
they said one must not seem to observe that aught is wrong with
him."
" 'Tis strange how my memory doth wanton with me these days,"
said Tom. " But mind it not 1 mend apace a little clue doth often
serve to bring me back again the things and names which had escaped
me. [And not they, only, forsooth, but e'en such as I ne'er heard
before as this lad shall see.] Give thy business speech."
" Tis matter of small weight, my liege, yet will I touch upon it an'
it please your grace. Two days gone by, when your Majesty faulted
thrice in your Greek in the morning lessons, dost remember it ? '
" Y-e-s methinks I do. [It is not much of a lie an' I had
meddled with the Greek at all, I had not faulted simply thrice, but
forty times.] Yes, I do recall it, now go on."
" The master, being wroth with what he termed such slovenly
and doltish work, did promise that he would soundly whip me for it
and
"LE ROT EST MORTVIVE LE ROT:'
151
"Whip thee ! " said Tom, astonished out of his presence of mind.
" Why should he whip thee for faults of mine ? "
" Ah, your grace forgetteth again. He always scourgeth me, when
thou dost fail in thy lessons."
"True, true I had forgot. Thou teachest me in private then
if I fail, he argueth that thy office was lamely done, and "
" Oh, my liege, what words are these ? I, the humblest of thy ser-
vants, presume to teach thee ? '
" Then where is thy
blame ? What riddle is
this ? Am I in truth gone
mad, or is it thou ? Explain
speak out."
" But, good your Ma-
jesty, there's nought that
needeth simplifying. None
may visit the sacred person
of the Prince of Wales with
blows ; wherefore when he
faulteth, 'tis I that take
them; and meet it is and
right, for that it is mine
office and my livelihood." l
Tom stared at the
tranquil boy, observing to
himself, " Lo, it is a
wonderful thing, a most strange and curious trade ; I marvel they
have not hired a boy to take my combings and my dressings for me
would heaven they would ! an' they will do this thing, I will take
my lashings in mine own person, giving God thanks for the change."
Then he said aloud
"And hast thou been beaten, poor friend, according to the
promise ? "
1 See Note 8, at end of volume.
TIS I THAT TAKE THEM.
152 LE EO I EST MORTVIVE LE HOI."
" No, good your Majesty, my punishment was appointed for this
day, and peradventure it may be annulled, as unbefitting the season
of mourning that is come upon us ; I know not, and so have made
bold to come hither and remind your grace about your gracious pro-
mise to intercede in my behalf "
"With the master ? To save thee thy whipping? '
" Ah, thou dost remember ! '
" My memory mendeth, thou seest. Set thy mind at ease thy
back shall go unscathed I will see to it."
" Oh, thanks, my good lord ! ' cried the boy, dropping upon his
knee again. " Mayhap I have ventured far enow ; and yet "...
Seeing Master Humphrey hesitate, Tom encouraged him to go on,
saying he was " in the granting mood."
" Then will I speak it out, for it lieth near my heart. Sith thou
art no more Prince of Wales but King, thou canst order matters as
thou wilt, with none to say thee nay ; wherefore it is not in reason
that thou wilt longer vex thyself with dreary studies, but wilt burn
thy books and turn thy mind to things less irksome. Then am I
ruined, and mine orphan sisters with me ! '
" Kuined ? Prithee how ? "
" My back is my bread, O my gracious liege ! if it go idle, I starve.
An' thou cease from study, mine office is gone, thou'lt need no whip-
ping-boy. Do not turn me away ! ' :
Tom was touched with this pathetic distress. He said, with a
right royal burst of generosity
" Discomfort thyself no further, lad. Thine office shall be perma-
nent in thee and thy line, for ever." Then he struck the boy a light
blow on the shoulder with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, " Rise,
Humphrey Marlow, Hereditary Grand Whipping- Boy to the Royal
House of England ! Banish sorrow I will betake me to my books
again, and study so ill that they must in justice treble thy wage, so
mightily shall the business of thine office be augmented."
The grateful Humphrey responded fervidly
" Thanks, O most noble master, this princely lavishness doth far
"LE ROI EST MORTVIVE LE R01." 153
surpass my most distempered dreams of fortune. Now shall I be
happy all my days, and all the house of Marlow after me."
Tom had wit enough to perceive that here was a lad who could be
useful to him. He encouraged Humphrey to talk, and he was nothing
loath. He was delighted to believe that he was helping in Tom's
" cure ; " for always, as soon as he had finished calling back to Tom's
diseased mind the various particulars of his experiences and adven-
tures in the royal school-room and elsewhere about the palace, he
noticed that Tom was then able to "recall" the circumstances quite
clearly. At the end of an hour Tom found himself well freighted with
very valuable information concerning personages and matters pertain-
ing to the Court ; so he resolved to draw instruction from this source
daily ; and to this end he would give order to admit Humphrey to the
royal closet whenever he might come, provided the majesty of England
was not engaged with other people. Humphrey had hardly been dis-
missed when my Lord Hertford arrived with more trouble for Tom.
He said that the Lords of the Council, fearing that some over-
wrought report of the King's damaged health might have leaked out
and got abroad, they deemed it wise and best that his Majesty should
begin to dine in public after a day or two his wholesome complexion
and vigorous step, assisted by a carefully guarded repose of manner
and ease and grace of demeanour, would more surely quiet the general
pulse in case any evil rumours had gone about than any other
scheme that could be devised.
Then the Earl proceeded, very delicately, to instruct Tom as to the
observances proper to the stately occasion, under the rather thin dis-
guise of "reminding" him concerning things already known to him ;
but to his vast gratification it turned out that Tom needed very little
help in this line he had been making use of Humphrey in that direc-
tion, for Humphrey had mentioned that within a few days he was to
begin to dine in public ; having gathered it from the swift-winged
gossip of the Court. Tom kept these facts to himself, however.
Seeing the royal memory so improved, the Earl ventured to apply
a few tests to it, in an apparently casual way, to find out how far ita
154
"LE ROT E8T MORTVIVE LE ROI."
amendment had progressed. The results were happy, here and there,
in spots spots where Humphrey's tracks remained and on the whole
my lord was greatly pleased and encouraged. So encouraged was he,
indeed, that he spoke up and said in a quite hopeful voice
" Now am I persuaded that if your Majesty will but tax your
memory yet a little further, it will resolve the puzzle of the Great Seal
"IF YOUR MAJESTY WILL BUT TAX YOUR MEMORY.
a loss which was of moment yesterday, although of none to-day, since
its term of service ended with our late lord's life. May it please
your Grace to make the trial ? '
Tom was at sea a Great Seal was a something which he was
totally unacquainted with. After a moment's hesitation he looked up
innocently and asked
LE If 01 KST MOHT VIVE LE ROir 155
" What was it like, my lord ? "
The Earl started, almost imperceptibly, muttering to himself,
' Alack, his wits are flown again ! it was ill wisdom to lead him on
to strain them ' --then he deftly turned the talk to other matters, with
the purpose of sweeping the unlucky Seal out of Tom's thoughts a
purpose which easily succeeded.
159
CHAPTER XV.
TOM AS KING.
THE next day the foreign ambassadors came, with their gorgeous
trains ; and Tom, throned in awful state, received them. The splen-
dours of the scene delighted his eye and fired his imagination, at first,
but the audience was long and dreary, and so were most of the
addresses wherefore, what began as a pleasure, grew into weariness
and homesickness by-and-by. Tom said the words which Hertford put
into his mouth from time to time, and tried hard to acquit himself
satisfactorily, but he was too new to such things, and too ill at ease to
accomplish more than a tolerable success. He looked sufficiently like
a king, but he was ill able to feel like one. He was cordially glad
when the ceremony was ended.
The larger part of his day was " wasted " as he termed it, in his
own mind in labours pertaining to his royal office. Even the two
hours devoted to certain princely pastimes and recreations were rather
a burden to him, than otherwise, they were so fettered by restrictions
and ceremonious observances. However, he had a private hour with
his whipping-boy which he counted clear gain, since he got both enter-
tainment and needful information out of it.
The third day of Tom Canty's kingship came and went much, as
the others had done, but there was a lifting of his cloud in one way-
he felt less uncomfortable than at first ; he was getting a little used to
his circumstances and surroundings ; his chains still galled, but not all
160 TOM AS KING.
the time ; he found that the presence and homage of the great afflicted
and embarrassed him less and less sharply with every hour that drifted
over his head.
But for one single dread, he could have seen the fourth day ap-
proach without serious distress the dining in public ; it was to begin
that day. There were greater matters in the programme for on that
day he would have to preside at a Council which would take his views
and commands concerning the policy to be pursued toward various
foreign nations scattered far and near over the great globe ; on that
day, too, Hertford would be formally chosen to the grand office of Lord
Protector; other things of note were appointed for that fourth day,
also ; but to Tom they were all insignificant compared with the ordeal
of dining all by himself with a multitude of curious eyes fastened upon
him and a multitude of mouths whispering comments upon his per-
formance, and upon his mistakes, if he should be so unlucky as to
make any.
Still, nothing could stop that fourth day, and so it came. It found
poor Tom low-spirited and absent-minded, and this mood continued ;
he could not shake it off. The ordinary duties of the morning dragged
upon his hands, and wearied him. Once more he felt the sense of
captivity heavy upon him.
Late in the forenoon he was in a large audience chamber, conver-
sing with the Earl of Hertford and dully awaiting the striking of the
hour appointed for a visit of ceremony from a considerable number
of great officials and courtiers.
After a little while, Tom, who had wandered to a window and
become interested in the life and movement of the great highway
beyond the palace gates and not idly interested, but longing with
all his heart to take part in person in its stir and freedom saw the
van of a hooting and shouting mob of disorderly men, women, and
children of the lowest and poorest degree approaching from up the
road.
" I would I knew what 'tis about ! " he exclaimed, with all a boy's
curiosity in such happenings.
TOM AS KIX<!.
161
" Thou art the King ! " solemnly responded the Earl, with a rever-
ence. " Have I your Grace's leave to act? "
" O blithely, yes ! gladly, yes ! "' exclaimed Tom, excitedly,
adding to himself with a lively sense of satisfaction, " In truth, being
a king is not all dreariness
it hath its compensations
and conveniences."
The Earl called a page,
and sent him to the captain
of the guard with the
order
" Let the inob be halted,
and inquiry made concern-
ing the occasion of its move-
ment. By the King's com-
mand ! "
A few seconds later a
long rank of the royal
guards, cased in flashing
steel, filed out at the gates
and formed across the high-
way in front of the multi-
tude. A messenger returned,
to report that the crowd
were following a man, a
woman, and a young girl to
execution for crimes com-
mitted against the peace
and dignity of the realm.
Death and a violent death for these poor unfortunates ! The
thought wrung Tom's heart-strings. The spirit of compassion took
control of him, to the exclusion of all other considerations ; he never
thought of the offended laws, or of the grief or loss which these three
criminals had inflicted upon their victims, he could think of nothing
M
" TOM HAD WANDERED TO A WINDOW."
162 TOM AS KING.
but the scaffold and the grisly fate hanging over the heads of the con-
demned. His concern made him even forget, for the moment, that
he was but the false shadow of a king, not the substance ; and before
he knew it he had blurted out the command
" Bring them here ! ' :
Then he blushed scarlet, and a sort of apology sprung to his lips;
but observing that his order had wrought no sort of surprise in the
Earl or the waiting page, he suppressed the words he was about to
utter. The page, in the most matter-of-course way, made a profound
obeisance and retired backwards out of the room to deliver the com-
mand. Tom experienced a glow of pride and a renewed sense of the
compensating advantages of the kingly office. He said to himself,
" Truly it is like what I was used to feel when I read the old priest's
tales, and did imagine mine own self a prince, giving law and com-
mand to all, saying ' Do this, do that,' whilst none durst offer let or
hindrance to my will."
Now the doors swung open ; one high-sounding title after another
was announced, the personages owning them followed, and the place
was quickly half filled with noble folk and finery. But Tom was
hardly conscious of the presence of these people, so wrought up was
he and so intensely absorbed in that other and more interesting matter.
He seated himself, absently, in his chair of state, and turned his
eyes upon the door with manifestations of impatient expectancy ;
seeing which, the company forbore to trouble him, and fell to
chatting a mixture of public business and court gossip one with
another.
In a little while the measured tread of military men was heard
approaching, and the culprits entered the presence in charge of an
under-sheriff and escorted by a detail of the king's guard. The civil
officer knelt before Tom, then stood aside ; the three doomed persons
knelt, also, and remained so ; the guard took position behind Tom's
chair. Tom scanned the prisoners curiously. Something about the
dress or appearance of the man had stirred a vague memory in him.
" Methinks I have seen this man ere now . . . but the when or the
TOM AS KIXG.
163
where fail me '' such was Tom's thought. Just then the man
glanced quickly up and quickly dropped his face again, not being able
to endure the awful port of sovereignty ; but the one full glimpse of
the face, which Tom got, was sufficient. He said to himself: "Now
is the matter clear ; this is the
stranger that plucked Giles Witt
out of the Thames, and saved his
life, that windy, bitter, first day
of the New Year a brave good
deed pity he hath been doing
baser ones and got himself in this
sad case. ... I have not forgot
the day, neither the hour ; by
reason that an hour after,
upon the stroke of eleven,
I did get a hiding by the
hand of Gammer Canty
which was of so goodly
TOM SCANNED THE PRISONERS.
and admired severity that all that went before or followed after it were
but fondlings and caresses by comparison."
Tom now ordered that the woman and the girl be removed from
M li
164 TOM AS KIXG.
the presence for a little time; then addressed himself to the under-
sheriff, saying
" Good sir, what is this man's offence ? '
The officer knelt, and answered
" So please your Majesty, he hath taken the life of a subject by
poison."
Tom's compassion for the prisoner, and admiration of him as the
daring rescuer of a drowning boy, experienced a most damaging shock.
" The thing was proven upon him ? " he asked.
" Most clearly, sire."
Tom sighed, and said
" Take him away he hath earned his death. 'Tis a pity, for he
was a brave heart na na, I mean he hath the look of it ! '
The prisoner clasped his hands together with sudden energy, and
wrung them despairingly, at the same time appealing imploringly to
the " King " in broken and terrified phrases
" O my lord the King, an' thou canst pity the lost, have pity upon
me ! I am innocent neither hath that wherewith I am charged
been more than but lamely proved yet I speak not of that; the
judgment is gone forth against me and may not suffer alteration ; yet
in mine extremity I beg a boon, for my doom is more than I can bear.
A grace, a grace, iny lord the King ! in thy royal compassion grant my
prayer give commandment that I be hanged ! '
Tom was amazed. This was not the outcome he had looked for.
" Odds my life, a strange boon ! Was it not the fate intended thee ? '
" O good my liege, not so ! It is ordered that I be boiled alive I '
The hideous surprise of these words almost made Tom spring from
his chair. As soon as he could recover his wits he cried out
" Have thy wish, poor soul ! an' thou had poisoned a hundred men
thou shouldst not suffer so miserable a death."
The prisoner bowed his face to the ground and burst into passionate
expressions of gratitude ending with
" If ever thou shouldst know misfortune which God forefend !
may thy goodness to me this day be remembered and requited ! *
TOM AS KIXG. 165
Tom turned to the Earl of Hertford, and said
" My lord, is it believable that there was warrant for this man's
ferocious doom ? '
" It is the law, your Grace for poisoners. In Germany coiners
be boiled to death in oil not cast in of a sudden, but by a rope let
down into the oil by degrees, and slowly ; first the feet, then the legs,
then "
" O prithee no more, my lord, I cannot bear it ! " cried Tom, cover-
ing his eyes with his hands to shut out the picture. " I beseech your
good lordship that order be taken to change this law oh, let no more
poor creatures be visited with its tortures."
The Earl's face showed profound gratification, for he was a man of
merciful and generous impulses a tiling not very common with his
class in that fierce age. He said
" These your Grace's noble words have sealed its doom. History
will remember it to the honour of your royal house."
The under-sherilTwas about to remove his prisoner ; Tom gave him
a sign to wait ; then he said
" Good sir, I would look into this matter further. The man has
said his deed was but lamely proved. Tell me what thou knowest."
" If the King's grace please, it did appear upon the trial, that this
man entered into a house in the hamlet of Islington where one lay sick
three witnesses say it was at ten of the clock in the morning, and two
say it was some minutes later the sick man being alone at the time,
and sleeping and presently the man came forth again, and went his
way. The sick man died within the hour, being torn with spasms and
retchings."
" Did any see the poison given ? "Was poison found ? '
" Marry, no, my liege."
" Then how doth one know there was poison given at all ? '
" Please your Majesty, the doctors testified that none die with such
symptoms but by poison."
Weighty evidence, this in that simple age. Tom recognised its
formidable nature, and said
166 TOM AS KING.
" The doctor knoweth his trade belike they were right. The
matter hath an ill look for this poor man."
" Yet was not this all, your Majesty ; there is more and worse.
Many testified that a witch, since gone from the village, none know
whither, did foretell, and speak it privately in their ears, that the sick
man would die by poison and more, that a stranger would give it a
stranger with brown hair and clothed in a worn and common garb ;
and surely this prisoner doth answer woundily to the bill. Please
your Majesty to give the circumstance that solemn weight which is its
due, seeing it was foretold"
This was an argument of tremendous force, in that superstitious
day. Tom felt that the thing was settled ; if evidence was worth any
thing, this poor fellow's guilt was proved. Still he offered the prisoner
a chance, saying
" If thou canst say aught in thy behalf, speak."
" Nought that will avail, my King. I am innocent, yet cannot I
make it appear. I have no friends, else might I show that I was not in
Islington that day ; so also might I show that at that hour they name
I was above a league away, seeing I was at Wapping Old Stairs ; yea
more, my King, for I could show, that whilst they say I was taking life,
I was saving it. A drowning boy "
" Peace ! Sheriff, name the day the deed was done ! '
" At ten in the morning, or some minutes later, the first day of the
New Year, most illustrious
" Let the prisoner go free it is the King's will ! "
Another blush followed this unregal outburst, and he covered his
indecorum as well as he could by adding
" It enrageth me that a man should be hanged upon such idle, hare-
brained evidence ! "
A low buzz of admiration swept through the assemblage. It was
not admiration of the decree that had been delivered by Tom, for the
propriety or expediency of pardoning a convicted poisoner was a thing
which few there would have felt justified in either admitting or admir-
ing no, the admiration was for the intelligence and spirit which
TOM AS KING.
167
Tom had displayed. Some of the low-voiced re-
marks were to this effect
" This is no mad king he hath his wits sound."
" How sanely he put his questions how like his
former natural self was this abrupt imperious disposal
of the matter ! '
" God be thunkt'il, his infirmity is spent ! This
is no weakling, but a king. He hath borne himself
like to his own father."
The air being filled with applause, Tom's ear
vl.
OT
.
_J i.L
r~i '
LET THE PEISOXER GO
FREE I "
necessarily caught a little of it. The effect which
this had upon him was to put him greatly at his
ease, and also to charge his system with very gratify-
ing sensations.
c
168
TOM AS KING.
However, his iuvenile curiosity soon rose superior to these pleasant
thoughts and feelings ; he was eager to know what sort of deadly mis-
chief the woman and the little girl could have been about ; so, by his
command the two terrified and sobbing creatures were brought before
him.
" What is it that these have done ? " he inquired of the sheriff.
" Please your Majesty, a black crime is charged upon them, and
clearly proven ; wherefore the judges have decreed, according to the
law, that they be hanged. They sold themselves to the devil such is
their crime."
Tom shuddered. He had been taught to abhor people who did this
wicked thing. Still, he was
not going to deny himself
the pleasure of feeding his
curiosity, for all that ; so he
asked
" Where was this done ?
and when ? '
" On a midnight, in De-
cember in a ruined church,
your Majesty."
Tom shuddered again.
" Who was there pre-
sent ? "
"WHAT is IT THAT THESE HAVE DONE?"
" Only these two, your grace and that other"
u Have these confessed ? '
" Nay, not so, sire they do deny it."
" Then prithee, how was it known ? '
" Certain witnesses did see them wending thither, good your
Majesty ; this bred the suspicion, and dire effects have since confirmed
and justified it. In particular, it is in evidence that through the
wicked power so obtained, they did invoke and bring about a storm
that wasted all the region round about. Above forty witnesses have
proved the storm ; and sooth one might have had a thousand, for all
had reason to remember it. sith all had suffered by it."
TOM AS KIXG.
16'J
" Certes this is a serious matter." Tom turned this dark piece of
scoundrelism over in his mind a while, then asked
" Suffered the woman, also, by the storm ? '
Several old heads among the assemblage nodded their recognition
of the wisdom of this question. The sheriff, however, saw nothing con-
sequential in the inquiry ; he answered, with simple directness
" Indeed did she, your Majesty, and most righteously, as all aver.
Her habitation was swept away, and herself and child left shelter-
less."
" Methinks the power to do herself so ill a turn was dearly bought.
She had been cheated, had she paid but a farthing for it; that she
SETEEAL OLD HEADS NODDED THEIR RECOGNITION.
paid her soul, and her child's, argueth that she is mad ; if she is mad
she knoweth not what she doth, therefore -sinneth not."
The elderly heads nodded recognition of Tom's wisdom once more,
and one individual murmured, " An' the King be mad himself, accord-
ing to report, then is it a madness of a sort that would improve the
sanity of some I wot of, if by the gentle providence of God they could
but catch it."
" What age hath the child ? " asked Tom.
"Nine years, please your Majesty."
170 TOM AS KING.
" By the law of England may a child enter into covenant and sell
itself, my lord ? " asked Tom, turning to a learned judge.
" The law doth not permit a child to make or meddle in any
weighty matter, good my liege, holding that its callow wit unfitteth it
to cope with the riper wit and evil schemings of them that are its
elders. The devil may buy a child, if he so choose, and the child agree
thereto, but not an Englishman in this latter case the contract would
be null and void."
" It seemeth a rude unchristian thing, and ill contrived, that
English law denieth privileges to Englishmen, to waste them on the
devil ! " cried Tom, with honest heat.
'
This novel view of the matter excited many smiles, and was stored
away in many heads to be repeated about the Court as evidence of
Tom's )riginality as well as progress toward mental health.
The elder culprit had ceased from sobbing, and was hanging upon
Tom's words with an excited interest and a growing hope. Tom
noticed this, and it strongly inclined his sympathies toward her in her
perilous and unfriended situation. Presently he asked
" How wrought they, to bring the storm ? '
" By pulling off their stockings, sire."
This astonished Tom, and also fired his curiosity to fever heat. He
said, eagerly
" It is wonderful ! Hath it always this dread effect ? '
" Always, my liege- at least if the woman desire it, and utter the
needful words, either in her mind or with her tongue."
Tom turned to the woman, and said with impetuous zeal
" Exert thy power I would see a storm ! "
There was a sudden paling of cheeks in the superstitious assem-
blage, and a general, though unexpressed, desire to get out of the place
all of which was lost upon Tom, who was dead to everything but
the proposed cataclysm. Seeing a puzzled and astonished look in the
woman's face, he added, excitedly
" Never fear thou shalt be blameless. More thou shalt go free
none shall touch thee. Exert thy power."
TOM AS KIX(;. 171
u
it
Oh, my lord the King, I have it not I have been falsely accused."
Thy fears stay thee. Be of good heart, thou shalt suffer no
harm. Make a storm it mattereth not how small a one I require
nought great or harmful, but indeed prefer the opposite do this and
thy life is spared thou shalt go out free, with thy child, bearing the
King's pardon, and safe from hurt or malice from any in the realm."
The woman prostrated herself, and protested, with tears, that she
had no power to do the miracle, else she would gladly win her child's
life, alone, and be content to lose her own, if by obedience to the
King's command so precious a grace might be acquired.
Tom urged the woman still adhered to her declarations. Finally
he said
" I think the woman hath said true. An' my mother were in her
place and gifted with the devil's functions, she had not stayed a
moment to call her storms and lay the whole land in ruins, if the
saving of my forfeit life were the price she got ! It is argument that
other mothers are made in like mould. Thou art free, goodwife
thou and thy child for I do think thee innocent. Xuw thou'st nought
to fear, being pardoned pull off thy stockings ! an' thou canst make
me a storm, thou shalt be rich ! " ,
The redeemed creature was loud in her gratitude, and proceeded to-
obey, whilst Tom looked on with eager expectancy, a little marred by
apprehension ; the courtiers at the same time manifesting decided dis-
comfort and uneasiness. The woman stripped her own feet and her
little girl's also, and plainly did her best to reward the King's generosity
with an earthquake, but it was all a failure and a disappointment.
Tom sighed, and said
" There, good soul, trouble thyself no further, thy power is departed
out of thee. Go thy way in peace ; and if it return to thee at any
time, forget me not, but fetch me a storm." l
1 See Notes to Chapter XV. at the end of the volume.
175
CHAPTER XVI.
THE STATE DINNER.
THE dinner hour drew near yet strangely enough, the thought
brought but slight discomfort to Tom, and hardly any terror. The
morning's experiences had wonderfully built up his confidence ; the
poor little ash-cat was already more wonted to his strange garret, after
four days' habit, than a mature person could have become in a full
month. A child's facility in accommodating itself to circumstances
was never more strikingly illustrated.
Let us privileged ones hurry to the great banqueting-room and
have a glance at matters there whilst Tom is being made ready for
the imposing occasion. It is a spacious apartment, with gilded pillars
and pilasters, and pictured walls and ceilings. At the door stand tall
guards, as rigid as statues, dressed in rich and picturesque costumes,
and bearing halberds. In a high gallery which runs all around the
place is a band of musicians and a packed company of citizens of both
sexes, in brilliant attire. In the centre of the room, upon a raised
platform, is Tom's table. Now let the ancient chronicler speak :
" A gentleman enters the room bearing a rod, and along with him
another bearing a table-cloth, which, after they have both kneeled
three times with the utmost veneration, he spreads upon the table,
and after kneeling again they both retire ; then come two others, one
with the rod again, the other with a salt-cellar, a plate, and bread ;
when they have kneeled as the others had done, and placed what was
176
THE STATE DIXXER.
brought upon the table, they too retire with the same ceremonies per-
formed by the first ; at last come two nobles, richly clothed, one bear-
ing a tasting-knife, who, after prostrating themselves three times in the
most graceful manner, approach and rub the table with bread and salt,
with as much awe as if the King had been present." l
"A GENTLEMAN BEARING A ROD."
So end the solemn preliminaries. Now, iar down the echoing
corridors we hear a bugle-blast, and the indistinct cry, " Place for the
King! way for the King's most excellent majesty!' 5 These sounds
are momently repeated they grow nearer and nearer and presently,
almost in our faces, the martial note peals and the cry rings out,
' Leigh Hunt's " The Town," .p. 408, quotation from an early tourist.
THE STATE DINNER.
Ill
" "Way for the king ! ' At this instant the shining pageant appears,
and files in at the door, with a measured march. Let the chronicler
speak again :
" First come Gentlemen, Barons, Earls, Knights
of the Garter, all richly dressed and bareheaded ;
next comes the Chancellor, between two, one of
which carries the royal sceptre, the other the
Sword of State in a red scabbard, studded with \,* /-//AV
\ -" ~4~ trifi 'i'ti ^_j^f
golden fleurs-de-lis, the point upwards; next \ v/
comes the King himself whom, upon his ap-
pearing, twelve trumpets and many drums salute
with a great burst of welcome whilst all in the
galleries rise in their places, crying ' God save
the King!' After
him come nobles
attached to his
person, and on
his right and left
march his guard
of honour, his
fifty Gentlemen
L
'THE CHANCELLOR
BETWEEN TWO."
\\7/
w
Pensioners, with
gilt battle-axes."
This was all
fine and pleasant.
Tom's pulse beat
high and a glad
178
THE STATE DINNER.
light was in his eye. He bore himself right gracefully, and all the
more so because he was not thinking of how he was doing it, his mind
being charmed and occupied with the blithe sights and sounds about
him and besides, nobody can be very ungraceful in nicely-fitting
beautiful clothes after he has grown a little used to them especially
if he is for the moment unconscious of them. Tom remembered his
instructions, and acknowledged his greeting with a slight inclination of
his plumed head, and a courteous " I thank ye, my good people."
He seated himself at table, without removing his cap ; and did it
without the least em-
barrassment ; for to eat
with one's cap on was
the one solitary royal
custom upon which the
kings and the Cantys met
upon common ground,
neither party having any
%*' -
advantage over the other
in the matter of old fami-
liarity with it. The pa-
geant broke up and group-
ed itself picturesquely,
and remained bareheaded.
Now, to the sound of
gay music, the Yeomen
of the Guard entered,
" the tallest and mightiest men in England, they being carefully
selected in this regard " but we will let the chronicler tell about
it:
" The Yeomen of the Guard entered, bareheaded, clothed in
scarlet, with golden roses upon their backs ; and these went and carm .
bringing in each turn a course of dishes, served in plate. These-
dishes were received by a gentleman in the same order they wen-
brought, and placed upon the table, while the taster gave to each guard
" I THANK YE, MY GOOD PEOPLE."
THE STATE DINNER.
170
a mouthful to eat of the particular dish he had brought, for fear of any
poison."
Tom made a good dinner, notwithstanding he was conscious that
hundreds of eyes followed each morsel to his mouth and watched him
eat it with an interest which could not have been more intense i it
"HE MARCHED AWAY IN THE MIDST OF HIS PAGEANT."
had been a deadly explosive and was expected to blow him up and
scatter him all about the place. He was careful not to hurry, and
equally careful not to do anything whatever for himself, but wait till
the proper official knelt down and did it for him. He got through
without a mistake flawless and precious triumph.
When the meal was over at last and he marched away in the midtt
N2
180 THE STATE DINNER.
of his bright pageant, with the happy noises in his ears of blaring
bugles, rolling drums and thundering acclamations, he felt that if he
had seen the worst of dining in public it was an ordeal which he
would be glad to endure several times a day if by that means he could
but buy himself free from some of the more formidable requirements
of his royal office.
_,.'
183
CHAPTER XVII.
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
MILES HENDOX hurried along toward the Southwark end of the
bridge, keeping a sharp look-out for the persons he sought, and hoping
and expecting to overtake them presently. He was disappointed in
this, however. By asking questions, he was enabled to track them
part of the way through Southwark ; then all traces ceased, and he
was perplexed as to how to proceed. Still, he continued his efforts as
best he could during the rest of the day. Nightfall found him leg-
weary, half famished, and his desire as far from accomplishment as
ever : so he supped at the Tabard inn and went to bed, resolved to
make an early start in the morning, and give the town an exhaustive
search. As he lay thinking and planning, he presently began to reason
thus : The boy would escape from the ruffian, his reputed father, if
possible; would he go back to London and seek his former haunts?
No, he would not do that, he would avoid recapture. What, then,
would he do ? Never having had a friend in the world, or a protector,
until he met Miles Hendon, he would naturally try to find that friend
again, provided the effort did not require him to go toward London
and danger. He would strike for Hendon Hall, that is what he would
do, for he knew Hendon was homeward bound and there he might
expect to find him. Yes, the case was plain to Hendon he must lose
no more time in Southwark, but move at once through Kent, toward
Monk's Holm, searching the wood and inquiring as he went. Let us
a-eturn to the vanished little King, now.
181
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
The ruffian whom the waiter at the inn on the bridge saw " about
to join " the youth and the King, did not exactly join them, but fell in
close behind them and followed their steps. He said nothing. His.
left arm was in a sling,
and he wore a large
green patch over his
left eye ; he limped
slightly, and used an
oaken staff as a sup-
port. The youth led
the King a crooked
course through South-
wark, and by-and-by
struck into the high
road beyond. The King
was irritated, now, and
said he would stop here
it was Hendon's
place to come to him,
not his to go to Hen-
don. He would not endure i
science ; he would stop where
The youth said
" Thou'lt tarry here, and tr.
lying wounded in the wood
So be it, then."
The King's manner changed
He cried out
" Wounded ? And who hath dared
to do it ? But that is apart ; lead on,
lead on ! Faster, sirrah ! art shod with lead ? Wounded, is he ?
Now though the doer of it be a duke's son, he shall rue it ! "
It was some distance to the wood, but the space was speedily tra-
versed. The youth looked about him, discovered a bough sticking in
once
"THE RUFFIAN FOLLOWED
THEIR STEPS."
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
185-
the ground, with a small bit of rag tied to it, then led the way into-
the forest, watching for similar boughs and finding them at intervals ;
they were evidently guides to the point he was aiming at. By-and-by
an open place was reached, where were the charred remains of a farm
HB SEIZED A BILLET OF WOOD.
house, and near them a barn which was falling to ruin and decay*
There was no sign of life anywhere, and utter silence prevailed. The
youth entered the barn, the King following eagerly upon his heels.
No one there ! The King shot a surprised and suspicious glance at the
youth, and asked
186 FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
" Where is he ? "
A mocking laugh was his answer. The King was in a rage in a
moment ; he seized a billet of wood and was in the act of charging
upon the youth when another mocking laugh fell upon his ear. It was
from the lame ruffian who had been following at a distance. The
King turned and said angrily
" Who art thou ? What is thy business here ? '
" Leave thy foolery," said the man, " and quiet thyself. My dis-
guise is none so good that thou canst pretend thou knowest not thy
i'ather through it."
'' Thou art not my father. I know thee not. I am the King.
If thou hast hid my servant, find him for me, or thou shalt sup
sorrow for what thou hast done."
John Canty replied, in a stern and measured voice
" It is plain thou art mad, and I am loath to punish thee ; but if
thou provoke me, I must. Thy prating doth no harm here, where there
are no ears that need to mind thy follies ; yet it is well to practise
thy tongue to wary speech, that it may do no hurt when our quarters
change. I have done a murder, and may not tarry at home neither
shalt thou, seeing I need thy service. My name is changed, for wise
reasons ; it is Hobbs John Hobbs ; thine is Jack charge thy
memory accordingly. Now, then, speak. Where is thy mother ? where
are thy sisters ? They came not to the place appointed knowest thou
whither they went ? '
The King answered, sullenly
" Trouble me not with these riddles. My mother is dead ; my
sisters are in the palace."
The youth near by burst into a derisive laugh, and the King would
have assaulted him, but Canty or Hobbs, as he now called himself
prevented him, and said
" Peace, Hugo, vex him not ; his mind is astray, and thy ways fret
him. Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel
to eat, anon."
Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together, in low voices, and the
FOO-FGO THE Fill ST.
187
King removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable com-
pany. He withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn,
where he found the earthen floor bedded a foot deep with straw. He
lay down here, drew straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was
soon absorbed in thinkings. He had many griefs, but the minor ones
were swept almost into forgetfulness by the supreme one, the loss of
his father. To the rest of the world the name of Henry VIII. brought
a shiver, and sujrorested an O ore whose nostrils breathed destruction
/ CO O
''HE WAS SOON ABSORBED IN THINKING."
and whose hand dealt scourgings and death ; but to this boy the name
brought only sensations of pleasure, the figure it invoked wore a coun-
tenance that was all gentleness and affection. He called to mind a
long succession of loving passages between his father and himself, and
dwelt fondly upon them, his unstinted tears attesting how deep and
real was the grief that possessed his heart. As the afternoon wasted
away, the lad, wearied with his troubles, sank gradually into a tranquil
and healing slumber.
After a considerable time he could not tell how long his senses
struggled to a half-consciousness, and as he lay with closed eyes
188
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
vaguely wondering where lie was and what had been happening, he
noted a murmurous sound, the sullen beating of rain upon the roof.
A snug sense of comfort stole over him, which was rudely broken, the
next moment, by a chorus of piping
cackles and coarse laughter. It startled
him disagreeably, and he unmuffled
his head to see whence this interruption
proceeded. A grim and unsightly
picture met his eye.
A bright fire was
burning: in the
middle of the floor,
GRIM AND USS.GHTLY PICTURE.
the barn ; and around it, and lit weirdly up by the red glare,
lolled and sprawled the motliest company of tattered gutter-scum and
ruffians, of both sexes, he had ever read or dreamed of. There were
huge, stalwart men, brown with exposure, long-haired, and clothed in
FOO-FOO THE FIRST. 189
fantastic rags ; there were middle-sized youths, of truculent counte-
nance, and similarly clad ; there were blind mendicants, with patched
or bandaged eyes ; crippled ones, with wooden legs and crutches ;
diseased ones, with running sores peeping from ineffectual wrappings ;
there was a villain-looking peddler with his pack ; a knife-grinder, a
tinker, and a barber-surgeon, with the implements of their trades ;
some of the females were hardly-grown girls, some were at prime, some
were old and wrinkled hags, and all were loud, brazen, foul-mouthed;
and all soiled and slatternly ; there were three sore-faced babies ; there
were a couple of starveling curs, with strings about their necks, whose
office was to lead the blind.
The night was come, the gang had just finished feasting, an orgy
was beginning; the can of liquor was passing from mouth to mouth.
A general cry broke forth
" A song ! a song from the Bat and Dick and Dot-and-go-One ! "
One of the blind men got up, and made ready by casting aside
the patches that sheltered his excellent eyes, and the pathetic placard
which recited the cause of his calamity. Dot-and-go-One disencum-
bered himself of his timber leg and took his place, upon sound and
healthy limbs, beside his fellow-rascal ; then they roared out a rollick-
ing ditty, and were reinforced by the whole crew, at the end of each
stanza, in a rousing chorus. By the time the last stanza was reached,
the half-drunken enthusiasm had risen to such a pitch, that everybody
joined in and sang it clear through from the beginning, producing a
volume of villanous sound that made the rafters quake. These were
the inspiring words :
" Bien Darkman's then, Bouse Mort and Ken,
The bien Coves Lings awast,
On Chates to trine by Rome Coves dine
For his long lib at last.
Bing'd out bien Morts and toure, and toure,
Bing out of the Rome vile bine,
And toure the Cove that cloy'd your duds,
Upon the Chates to trine." '
J From "The English Rogue." London, 1665.
190
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
Conversation followed ; not in the thieves' dialect of the song, for
that was only used in talk when unfriendly ears might be listening.
In the course of it it appeared that " John Hobbs " was not altogether
a new recruit, but had trained in the gang at some former time. His-
later history was called
for, and when he said he
had " accidentally " killed
a man, considerable satis-
faction was expressed ;
when he added that the
man was a priest, he was
roundly applauded, and
had to take a drink with
everybody. Old acquain-
tances welcomed him joy-
ously, and new ones were
proud to shake him by
the hand. He was asked
why he had " tarried away
so many months." He
answered
" London is better
than the country, and
safer, these late years, the
laws be so bitter and so
diligently enforced. An"
I had not had that acci-
dent, I had staid there.
I had resolved to stay,,
and never more venture country -wards but the accident has ended
that."
He inquired how many persons the gang numbered now. Tl.e
11 Kuffler," or chief, answered
" Five and twenty sturdy budges, bulks, files, clapperdogeons and
THEY ROARED OUT A ROLLICKING DITTY.
r "
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
191
maunders, counting the dells and doxies and other morts. 1 Most are
here, the rest are wandering eastward, along the winter la} 7 . We
follow at dawn."
" I do not see the Wen
among the honest folk about
me. Where may he be ? '
" Poor lad, his diet is
brimstone, now, and over hot
for a delicate taste. He was
killed in a brawl, somewhere
about midsummer."
" I sorrow to hear that ;
the Wen was a capable man,
and brave."
"That was he, truly.
Black Bess, his dell, is of us
yet, but absent on the east-
ward tramp ; a fine lass, oL'
nice ways and orderly con-
duct, none ever seeing her
drunk above four days in th
seven."
"She was ever strict i
remember it well a goodly
wench and worthy all com
mendation. Her mother was
more free and less particular ;
a troublesome and ugly tem-
pered beldame, but furnished with a wit above the common."
" We lost her through it. Her gift of palmistry and other sorts
of fortune- telling begot for her at last a witch's name and fame. The
law roasted her to death at a slow fire. It did touch me to a sort of
WHILST THE FLAMES LICKED UPWARDS.
1 Canting terms for various kinds of thieves, bfggars, and vagabonds, and
their female companions.
u
it
192 FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
tenderness to see the gallant way she met her lot cursing and revil-
ing all the crowd that gaped and gazed around her, whilst the flames
licked upward toward her face and catched her thin locks and crackled
about her old gray head cursing them, said I ? cursing them !
why an' thou shouldst live a thousand years thoud'st never hear so
masterful a cursing. Alack, her art died with her. There be base
and weakling imitations left, but no true blasphemy."
The Ruffler sighed ; the listeners sighed in sympathy ; a general
depression fell upon the company for a moment, for even hardened
outcasts like 'these are not wholly dead to sentiment, but are able to
feel a fleeting sense of loss and affliction at wide intervals and under
peculiarly favouring circumstances as in cases like to this, for in-
stance, when genius and culture depart and leave no heir. However,
a deep drink all round soon restored the spirits of the mourners.
Have any others of our friends fared hardly ? " asked Hobbs.
Some yes. Particularly new comers such as small husband-
men turned shiftless and hungry upon the world because their farms
were taken from them to be changed to sheep ranges. They begged,
and were whipped at the cart's tail, naked from the girdle up, till the
blood ran ; then set in the stocks to be pelted ; they begged again,
were whipped again, and deprived of an ear ; they begged a third time
poor devils, what else could they do ? and were branded on the
cheek with a red-hot iron, then sold for slaves; they ran away, were
hunted down, and hanged. 'Tis a brief tale, and quickly told.
Others of us have fared less hardly. Stand forth, Yokel, Burns, and
Hodge show your adornments ! '
O /
These stood up and stripped away some of their rags, exposing
their backs, criss-crossed with ropy old welts left by the lash ; one
turned up his hair and showed the pliice where a left ear had once
been ; another showed a brand upon his shoulder the letter V and
a mutilated ear ; the third said
" I am Yokel, once a farmer and prosperous, with loving wife and
kids now am I somewhat different in estate and calling ; and the
wife and kids are gone ; mayhap they are in heaven, mayhap in in
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
193
the other place but the kindly God be thanked, they bide no more
in England ! My good old blameless mother strove to earn bread by
nursing the sick ; one of these died, the doctors knew not how, so my
mother was burnt for a witch, whilst my babes looked on and wailed.
English law ! up, all, with your cups ! now all together and with a
m
' S^,. -'- - -- -'
-- f--^
"THEY WERE WHIPPED AT THE CART'S TAIL.'
cheer ! drink to the merciful English law that de-
livered her from the English hell ! Thank you, mates, one and all.
I begged, from house to house I and the wife bearing with us the
hungry kids but it was crime to be hungry in England so they
stripped us and la&hed us through three towns. Drink ye all again
o
194 FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
to the merciful English law ! for its lash drank deep of my Mary's
blood and its blessed deliverance came quick. She lies there, in the
potter's field, safe from all harms. And the kids well, whilst the law
lashed me from town to town, they starved. Drink, lads only a drop
a drop to the poor kids, that never did any creature harm. I begged
again begged for a crust, and got the stocks and lost an ear see, here
bides the stump ; I begged again, and here is the stump o the other
to keep me minded of it. And still I begged again, and was sold for a
s l ave here on my cheek under this stain, if I washed it off, ye might
see the red S the branding-iron left there ! A SLAVE ! Do ye under-
stand that word ! An English SLAVE ! that is he that stands before
ye. I have run from my master, and when I am found the heavy
curse of heaven fall on the law of the land that hath commanded it !
I shall hang ! " l
A ringing voice came through the murky air
" Thou shalt not ! and this day the end of that law is come ! "
All turned, and saw the fantastic figure of the little King approach-
ing hurriedly ; as it emerged into the light and was clearly revealed,
a general explosion of inquiries broke out
" Who is it ? What is it ? Who art thou, manikin ? "
The boy stood unconfused in the midst of all those surprised and
questioning eyes, and answered with princely dignity-
" I am Edward, King of England."
A wild burst of laughter followed, partly of derision and partly of
delight in the excellence of the joke. The King was stung. He said
sharply
"Ye mannerless vagrants, is this your recognition of the royal
boon I have promised ? *
He said more, with angry voice and excited gesture, but it was lost
in a whirlwind of laughter and mocking exclamations. " John Hobbs "
made several attempts to make himself heard above the din, and at
last succeeded saying
1 See Note 10, at end of volume.
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
195
" Mates, he is my son, a dreamer, a fool, and stark mad mind
him not he thinketh he is the King."
"lam the King," said Edward, turning toward him, " as thou shalt
know to thy cost, in good time. Thou hast confessed a murder thou
shalt swing for it."
"T/iou'lt betray me ? thou ? An' I get my hands upon thee "
THOU SHALT NOT.
" Tut-tut ! " said the burly Ruffler, interposing in time to save the
King, and emphasising this service by knocking Hobbs down with his
fist, " hast respect for neither Kings nor Rufflers? An' thou insult my
presence so again, I'll hang thee up myself." Then he said to his
Majesty, " Thou must make no threats against thy mates, lad ; and
o2
1UG
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
thou must guard thy tongue from saying evil of them elsewhere.
Be King, if it please thy mad humour, but be not harmful in it.
Sink the title thou hast uttered 'tis treason ; we be bad men
in some few trifling ways, but none among us is so base as to be
KNOCKING HOBBS DOWN.''
traitor to his King ; we be loving and loyal hearts, in that regard.
Note if I speak truth. Now all together : ' Long live Edward, King
of England ! ' "
" LONG LIVE EDWARD, KING OF ENGLAND ! "
FOO-FOO THE FIRST. 197
The response came with such a thundergust from the motley crew
that the crazy building vibrated to the sound. The little King's face
lighted with pleasure for an instant, and he slightly inclined his head,
and said with grave simplicity
" I thank you, my good people."
This unexpected result threw the company into convulsions of
merriment. When something like quiet was presently come again,
the Kuffler said, firmly, but with an accent of good nature
" Drop it, boy, 'tis not wise, nor well. Humour thy fancy, if thou
must, but choose some other title."
A tinker shrieked out a suggestion
" Foo-foo the First, King of the Mooncalves ! ' :
The title " took," at once, every throat responded, and a roaring
shout went up, of
" Long live Foo-foo the First, King of the Mooncalves ! " followed
by hootings, cat-calls, and peals of laughter.
" Hale him forth, and crown him 1 ' :
" Kobe him ! "
" Sceptre him ! '
"Throne him! "
These and twenty other cries broke out at once ! and almost before
the poor little victim could draw a breath he was crowned with a tin
basin, robed in a tattered blanket, throned upon a barrel, and sceptred
with the tinker's soldering-iron. Then all flung themselves upon their
knees about him and sent up a chorus of ironical wailings, and mock-
ing supplications, whilst they swabbed their eyes with their soiled and
ragged sleeves and aprons
" Be gracious to us, O sweet King ! '
" Trample not upon thy beseeching worms, O noble Majesty ! '
" Pity thy slaves, and comfort them with a royal kick ! '
" Cheer us and warm us with thy gracious rays, O flaming sun of
sovereignty ! '
" Sanctify the ground with the touch of thy foot, that we may eat
the dirt and be ennobled ! "
198
FOO-FOO THE FIRST.
"Deign to spit upon us, O Sire, that our children's children may
tell of thy princely condescension, and be proud and happy for-
ever ! "
But the humorous tinker made the " hit " of the evening and car-
ried off the honours. Kneeling, he pretended to kiss the King's foot,
and was indignantly spurned ; whereupon he went about begging for
a rag to paste over the place'upon his face which had been touched by
the foot, saying it must be preserved from contact with the vulgar air,
and that he should make his fortune by going on the highway and
exposing it to view at the rate of a hundred shillings a sight. He
FOO-FOO THE FIRST. 199
made himself so killingly funny that he was the envy and admiration
of the whole mangy rabble.
Tears of shame and indignation stood in the little monarch's eyes ;
and the thought in his heart was, " Had I offered them a deep wrong
they could not be more cruel yet have I proffered nought but to do
them a kindness and it is thus they use me for it ! '
203
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
THE troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn, and set forward on,
their march. There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground under
itr^fe*^-
" THE TEOOP OF VAGABONDS SET FORWARD.
> ^r "- "7
?/ foot, and a winter chill in the air. All
f^ ** <.
gaiety was gone from the company ; some-
" S
'
204 THE PRIXCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
were sullen and silent, some were irritable and petulant, none were
gentle-humoured, all were thirsty.
The Ruffler put " Jack " in Hugo's charge, with some brief instruc-
tions, and commanded John Canty to keep away from him and let him
alone ; he also warned Hugo not to be too rough with the lad.
After a while the weather grew milder, and the clouds lifted some-
what. The troop ceased to shiver, and their spirits began to improve.
They grew more and more cheerful, and finally began to chaff each
other and insult passengers along the highway. This showed that they
were awaking to an appreciation of life and its joys once more. The
dread in which their sort was held was apparent in the fact that every-
body gave them the road, and took their ribald insolences meekly, with-
out venturing to talk back. They snatched linen from the hedges,
occasionally in full view of the owners, who made no protest, but only
seemed grateful that they did not take the hedges, too.
By and by they invaded a small farm-house and made themselves
at home while the trembling former and his people swept the larder
clean to furnish a breakfast for them. They chucked the housewife
and her daughters under the chin whilst receiving the food from their
hands, and made coarse jests about them, accompanied with insulting
epithets and bursts of horse-laughter. They threw bones and vegetables
at the farmer and his sons, kept them dodging all the time, and applauded
uproariously when a good hit was made. They ended by buttering the
head of one of the daughters who resented some of their familiarities.
When they took their leave they threatened to comeback and burn the
house over the heads of the family if any report of their doings got to
the ears of the authorities.
About noon, after a long and weary tramp, the gang came to a halt
behind a hedge on the outskirts of a considerable village. An hour
was allowed for rest, then the crew scattered themselves abroad to
enter the village at different points to ply their various trades. " Jack "
was sent with Hugo. They wandered hither and thither for some time,
Hugo watching for opportunities to do a stroke of business, but finding
none so he finally said
THE PRIXCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
205
" I see nought to steal ; it is a paltry place. Wherefore we will
beg."
" We, forsooth ! Follow thy trade it befits thee. But / will not
beg."
" Thou'lt not beg ! " exclaimed Hugo, eyeing the King with surprise.
" Prithee, since when hast thou reformed ? '
" What dost thou mean ? '
" Mean ? Hast thou not begged the streets of London all thy
life ? "
THEY THREW BONES AND.
VEGETABLES."
.,1 ? Thou idiot ? "
" Spare thy compli-
ments thy stock will last
the longer. Thy father says thou hast begged all thy days. May-
hap he lied . Peradventure you will even make so bold as to say
he lied," scoffed Huge.
" Him you call my father ? Yes, he lied."
" Come, play not thy merry game of madman so far, mate ; use it
for thy amusement, not thy hurt. An' I tell him this, he will scorch
thee finely for it."
" Save thyself the trouble. I will tell him."
206 THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
" I like thy spirit, I do in truth ; but I do not admire thy judg-
ment. Bone-rackings and bastings be plenty enow in this life, without
going out of one's way to invite them. But a truce to these matters ;
/ believe your father. I doubt not he can lie ; I doubt not he doth lie,
upon occasion, for the best of us do that ; but there is no occasion here.
A wise man does not waste so good a commodity as lying for nought.
But come ; sith it is thy humour to give over begging, wherewithal
shall we busy ourselves ? With robbing kitchens ? '
The King said, impatiently
" Have done with this folly you weary me ! "
Hugo replied, with temper
" Now harkee, mate ; you will not beg, you will not rob ; so be it.
But I will tell you what you will do. You will play decoy whilst /
beg. Refuse, an' you think you may venture ! '
The King was about to reply contemptuously, when Hugo said, inter-
rupting
" Peace ! Here comes one with a kindly face. Now will I fall
down in a fit. When the stranger runs to me, set you up a wail, and
fall upon your knees, seeming to weep ; then cry out as all the devils
of misery were in your belly, and say, ' Oh, sir, it is my poor afflicted
brother, and we be friendless ; o' God's name cast through your mer-
ciful eyes one pitiful look upon a sick, forsaken, and most miserable
wretch; bestow one little penny out of thy riches upon one smitten of
God and ready to perish ! ' and mind you, keep you on wailing, and
abate not till we bilk him of his penny, else shall you rue it."
Then immediately Hugo began to moan, and groan, and roll his
eyes, and reel and totter about ; and when the stranger was close at
hand, down he sprawled before him, with a shriek, and began to writhe
&nd wallow in the dirt, in seeming agony.
" O dear, O dear ! " cried the benevolent stranger, " poor soul,
poor soul, how he doth suffer ! There let me help thee up."
" Oh, noble sir, forbear, and God love you for a princely gentleman
but it giveth me cruel pain to touch me when I am taken so. My
brother there will tell your worship how I am racked with anguish
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
207
when these fits be upon me. A penny, dear sir, a penny, to buy a
little food ; then leave me to my sorrows."
" A penny ! thou shalt have three, thou hapless creature " and
he fumbled in his pocket with nervous haste and got them out.
" There, poor lad, take them and most welcome. Now come hither,
my boy, and help me carry thy stricken brother to yon house,
where "
TO WRITHE AND WALLOW IN THE DIET.
f
I <-" -"* \- 'y "Jl " I am not his brother," said the King, interrupting.
" What ! not his brother ? "
" O hear him ! " groaned Hugo, then privately ground his teeth.
" He denies his own brother and he with one foot in the grave ! >:
" Boy, thou art indeed hard of heart, if this is thy brother. For
shame ! and he scarce able to move hand or foot. If he is not thy
brother, who is he, then ? '
" A beggar and a thief ! He has got your money and has picked
208
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
your pocket likewise. An' thou wouldst do a healing miracle, lay thy
staff over his shoulders and trust Providence for the rest."
But Hugo did not tarry for the miracle. In a moment he was up
and off like the wind, the gentleman following after and raising the
hue and cry lustily as he went.
The King, breathing deep gra-
/ I \\ >\j \L-^ ^ titude to Heaven for his own
release, fled in the
opposite direction,
and did not slacken his pace
until he was out of harm's
reach. He took the first
road that offered, and soon
put the village behind him.
He hurried along, as briskly
as he could, during several
hours, keeping a nervous
watch over his shoulder for
pursuit ; but his fears left him at last, and a grateful sense of security
look their place. He recognised, now, that he was hungry ; and also very
tired. So he halted at a farm-house ; but when he was about to speak,
he was cut short and driven rudely away. His clothes were against ^j
1 THE KING FLKD IX THE OPPOSITE
BISECTION."
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS. 209
He wandered on, wounded and indignant, and was resolved to put
himself in the way of like treatment no more. But hunger is pride's
master; so, as the evening drew near, he made an attempt at another
farm-house; but here he fared worse than before; for he was called
hard names and was promised arrest as a vagrant except he moved on
promptly.
The night came on, chilly and overcast ; and still the footsore
monarch laboured slowly on. He was obliged to keep moving, for
every time he sat down to rest he was soon penetrated to the bone with
the cold. All his sensations and experiences, as he moved through the
solemn gloom and the empty vastness of the night, were new and strange
to him. At intervals he heard voices approach, pass by, and fade into
silence ; and as he saw nothing more of the bodies they belonged to
than a sort of formless drifting blur, there was something spectral and
uncanny about it all that made him shudder. Occasionally he caught
the twinkle of a light always far away, apparently almost in another
world ; if he heard the tinkle of a sheep's bell, it was vague, distant,
indistinct ; the muffled lowing of the herds floated to him on the night
wind in vanishing cadences, a mournful sound ; now and then came
the complaining howl of a dog over viewless expanses of field and
forest ; all sounds were remote ; they made the little King feel that all
life and activity were far removed from him, and that he stood solitary,
companionless, in the centre of a measureless solitude.
He stumbled along, through the gruesome fascinations of this new
experience, startled occasionally by the soft rustling of the dry leaves
overhead, so like human whispers they seemed to sound ; and by and
by he came suddenly upon the freckled light of a tin lantern near at
hand. He stepped back into the shadows and waited. The lantern
stood by the open door of a barn. The King waited some time there
was no sound, and nobody stirring. He got so cold, standing still, and
the hospitable barn looked so enticing, that at last he resolved to risk
everything and enter. He started swiftly and stealthily, and just as he
was crossing the threshold he heard voices behind him. He darted
behind a cask, within the barn, and stooped down. Two farm labourers
P
210
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
came in, bringing the lantern with them, and fell to work, talking
meanwhile. Whilst they moved about with the light, the King made
good use of his eyes and took the bearings of what seemed to be a good
sized stall at the further end of the place, purposing to grope his way
1
to it when he should be
He also noted the posi-
horse blankets, midway
the intent to levy upon
vice of the crown of
night.
/ V
HE STUMBLED ALONG.
n
left to himself,
tion of a pile of
of the route, with
them for the ser-
England for one
By and by the
men finished and went away, fastening the door behind them and
taking the lantern with them. The shivering King made for the
blankets, with as good speed as the darkness would allow ; gathered
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS. 211
them up and then groped his way safely to the stall. Of two o the
blankets he made a bed, then covered himself with the remainmg
two. He was a glad monarch, now, though the blankets were old
and thin, and not quite warm enough ; and besides gave out a pungent
horsy odour that was almost suffocatingly powerful.
Although the King was hungry and chilly, he was also so tired and
so drowsy that these latter influences soon began to get the advantage
of the former, and he presently dozed off into a state of semi-con-
sciousness. Then, just as he was on the point of losing himself
wholly, he distinctly felt something touch him ! He was broad awake
in a moment, and gasping for breath. The cold horror of that mys-
terious touch in the dark almost made his heart stand still. He lav
motionless, and listened, scarcely breathing. But nothing stirred, and
there was no sound. He continued to listen, and wait, during what
seemed a long time, but still nothing stirred, and there was no sound.
So he began to drop into a drowse once more, at last ; and all at once
he felt that mysterious touch again ! It was a grisly thing, this light
touch from this noiseless and invisible presence ; it made the boy sick
with ghostly fears. What should he do ? That was the question ;
but he did not know how to answer it. Should he leave these reason-
ably comfortable quarters and fly from this inscrutable horror ? But
fly whither ? He could not get out of the barn ; and the idea of
scurrying blindly hither and thither in the dark, within the captivity
of the four walls, with this phantom gliding after him, and visiting him
with that soft hideous touch upon cheek or shoulder at every turn, was
intolerable. But to stay where he was, and endure this living death
all night ? was that better ? No. What, then, was there left to do ?
Ah, there was but one course ; he knew it well he must put out his
hand and find that thing !
It was easy to think this ; but it was hard to brace himself up to
try it. Three times he stretched his hand a little way out into the
dark, gingerly ; and snatched it suddenly back, with a gasp not
because it had encountered anything, but because he had felt so sure
it was just going to. But the fourth time, he groped a little further,
P2
212
THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
and his hand lightly swept against something soft and warm. This
petrified him, nearly, with fright his mind was in such a state that
he could imagine the thing to be nothing else than a corpse, newly
dead and still warm. He thought he would rather die than touch it
again. But he thought this false thought because he did not know
the immortal strength of human curiosity. In no long time his hand
was tremblingly groping again against his judgment, and without
his consent but groping persistently on, just the same. It encoun-
tered a bunch of long hair ; he shuddered, but followed up the hair
"WHAT SEEMED TO BE A WARM ROPE."
and found what seemed to be a warm
rope ; followed up the rope and found
an innocent calf! for the rope was
not a rope at all, but the calf s tail.
The King was cordially ashamed of himself for having gotten all
that fright and misery out of so paltry a matter as a slumbering calf;
but he need not have felt so about it, for it was not the calf that
frightened him, but a dreadful non-existent something which the calf
stood for ; and any other boy, in those old superstitious times, would
have acted and suffered just as he had done.
The King was not only delighted to find that the creature was
THE PRIXCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
213
only a calf, but delighted to have the calf's company ; for he had been
feeling so lonesome and friendless that the company and comradeship
of even this humble animal was welcome. And he had been so
buffeted, so rudely entreated by his own kind, that it was a real com-
fort to him to feel that he was at last in the society of a fellow creature
that had at least a soft heart and a gentle spirit, whatever loftier
attributes might be lacking. So he resolved to waive rank and make
friends with the calf.
While stroking its sleek warm back for it lay near him and within
easy reach it oc-
curred to him that
this calf might be
" CUDDLED VP TO THE CALF."
utilised in more ways than one.
Whereupon he re-arranged his bed,
spreading it down close to the calf;
then he cuddled himself up to the calf's back, drew the covers up
over himself and his friend, and in a minute or two was as warm and
comfortable as he had ever been in the downy couches of the regal
palace of Westminster.
Pleasant thoughts came, at once ; life took on a cheerf uller seeming.
He was free of the bonds of servitude and crime, free of the companion-
ship of base and brutal outlaws ; he was warm, he was sheltered ; in a
word, he was happy. The night wind was rising ; it swept by in fitful
214 THE PRINCE WITH THE TRAMPS.
gusts that made the old barn quake and rattle, then its forces died
down at intervals, and went moaning and wailing around corners and
projections but it was all music to the King, now that he was snug
and comfortable : let it blow and rage, let it batter and bang, let it
moan and wail, he minded it not, he only enjoyed it. He merely
snuggled the closer to his friend, in a luxury of warm contentment,
and drifted blissfully out of consciousness into a deep and dreamless
sleep that was full of serenity and peace. The distant dogs howled,
the melancholy kine complained, and the winds went on raging, whilst
furious sheets of rain drove along the roof ; but the Majesty of England
slept on, undisturbed, and the calf did the same, it being a simple
creature, and not easily troubled by storms or embarrassed by sleeping
with a King.
217
CHAPTER XIX.
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS.
WHEN the King awoke in the early morning, he found that a wet^but
thoughtful rat had crept into the place during the night and made a
cosy bed for itself in his bosom. Being disturbed, now, it scampered
away. The boy smiled, and said, " Poor fool, why so fearful ? I am
as forlorn as thou. 'T would be a shame in me to hurt the helpless,
who am myself so helpless. Moreover, I owe you thanks for a good
omen ; for when a King has fallen so low that the very rats do make a
bed of him, it surely meaneth that his fortunes be upon the turn, since
it is plain he can no lower go."
He got up and stepped out of the stall, and just then he heard the
sound of children's voices. The barn door opened and a couple of
little girls came in. As soon as they saw him their talking and
laughing ceased, and they stopped and stood still, gazing at him with
strong curiosity ; they presently began to whisper together, then they
approached nearer, and stopped again to gaze and whisper. By and
by they gathered courage and began to discuss him aloud. One
said
" He hath a comely face."
The other added
" And pretty hair."
" But is ill clothed enow."
" And how starved he looketh."
218
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS.
They came still nearer, sidling shyly around and about him, ex-
amining him minutely from all points, as if he were some strange new
kind of animal ; but warily and watchfully, the while, as if they half
feared he might be a sort of animal that would bite, upon occasion.
Finally they halted before him, holding each other's hands, for protec-
tion, and took a good satisfying stare with their innocent eyes ; then
one of them plucked up all her courage and inquired with honest
directness .. _ 1i ,-_
" Who art thou, boy ? " - >#
" TOOK A GOOD SATISFYING STARE. '
"I am the King," was the grave
;
answer.
The children gave a little start, and
their eyes spread themselves wide open and remained so during a
speechless half minute. Then curiosity broke the silence-
" The King ? What King ? "
" The King of England."
The children looked at each other then at him then at each other
ao;ain wonderingly, perplexedly then one said
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS. 219
" Didst hear him, Margery? he saith he is the King. Can that be
true ? "
" How can it be else but true, Prissy ? Would he say a lie ? For
look you, Prissy, an' it were not true, it would be a lie. It surely
would be. Now think on't. For all things that be not true, be lies
thou canst make nought else out of it."
It was a good tight argument, without a leak in it anywhere ; and
it left Prissy's half-doubts not a leg to stand on. She considered a
moment, then put the King upon his honour with the simple remark
" If thou art truly the King, then I believe thee."
" I ana truly the King."
This settled the matter. His Majesty's royalty was accepted without
further question or discussion, and the two little girls began at once to
inquire into how he came to be where he was, and how he came to be
so unroyally clad, and whither he was bound, and all about his affairs.
It was a mighty relief to him to pour out his troubles where they would
not be scoffed at or doubted ; so he told his tale with feeling, forgetting
even his hunger for the time ; and it was received with the deepest and
tenderest sympathy by the gentle little maids. But when he got down
to his latest experiences and they learned how long he had been with-
out food, they cut him short and hurried him away to the farm-house
to find a breakfast for him.
The King was cheerful and happy now, and said to himself, "When
I am come to mine own again, I will always honour little children,
remembering how that these trusted me and believed in me in my time
of trouble ; whilst they that were older, and thought themselves wiser,
mocked at me and held me for a liar."
The children's mother received the King kindly, and was full o
pity ; for his forlorn condition and apparently crazed intellect touched
her womanly heart. She was a widow, and rather poor ; consequently
she had seen trouble enough to enable her to feel for the unfortunate.
She imagined that the demented boy had wandered away from his
friends or keepers ; so she tried to find out whence he had come, in
order that she might take measures to return him ; but all her refer-
220
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS.
ences to neighbouring towns and villages, and all her inquiries in the
:same line, went for nothing the boy's face, and his answers, too,
showed that the things she was talking of were not familiar to him.
He spoke earnestly and simply about court matters ; and broke down,
more than once, when speaking of the late King "his father;' but
whenever the conversation changed to baser topics, he lost interest and
became silent.
"THE CHILDREN'S MOTHER RECEIVED THE KING KINDLY."
The woman was mightily puzzled ; but she did not give up. As
:she proceeded with her cooking, she set herself to contriving devices to
surprise the boy into betraying his real secret. She talked about cattle
he showed no concern ; then about sheep the same result so her
guess that he had been a shepherd boy was an error ; she talked about
mills ; and about weavers, tinkers, smiths, trades and tradesmen of all
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASAXTS. 221
sorts ; and about Bedlam, and jails, and charitable retreats ; but no
matter, she was baffled at all points. Not altogether, either ; for she
argued that she had narrowed the thing down to domestic service. Yes,
she was sure she was on the right track, now he must have been a
house servant. So she led up to that. But the result was discouraging.
The subject of sweeping appeared to weary him ; fire-building failed to
stir him ; scrubbing and scouring awoke no enthusiasm. Then the
goodwife touched, with a perishing hope, and rather as a matter of
form, upon the subject of cooking. To her surprise, and her vast de-
light, the King's face lighted at once ! Ah, she had hunted him down
at last, she thought; and she was right proud, too, of the devious,
shrewdness and tact which had accomplished it.
Her tired tongue got a chance to rest, now ; for the King's, inspired!
by gnawing hunger and the fragrant smells that came from the sput-
tering pots and pans, turned itself loose and delivered itself up to such'
an eloquent dissertation upon certain toothsome dishes, that within
three minutes the woman said to herself, "Of a truth I was right he-
hath holpen in a kitchen ! " Then he broadened his bill of fare, and
discussed it with such appreciation and animation, that the good wife-
said to herself, " Good lack ! how can he know so many dishes, and so
fine ones withal ? For these belong only upon the tables of the rich
and great. Ah, now I see ! ragged outcast as he is, he must have
served in the palace before his reason went astray ; yes, he must have
helped in the very kitchen of the-King himself! I will test him."
Full of eagerness to prove her sagacity, she told the King to mind
the cooking a moment hinting that he might manufacture and add a.
dish or two, if he chose then she went out of the room and gave her
children a sign to follow after. The King muttered
" Another English king had a commission like to this, in a bygone
time it is nothing against my dignity to undertake an office which the
great Alfred stooped to assume. But I will try to better serve my
trust than he ; for he let the cakes burn."
The, intent was good, but the performance was not answerable to
it, for this King, like the other one, soon fell into deep thinkings con-
222
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS.
cerning his vast affairs, and the same calamity resulted the cookery
got burned. The woman returned in time to save the breakfast from
entire destruction ; and she promptly brought the King out of his
dreams with a brisk
and cordial tongue-
lashing. Then, see-
ing how troubled he
'BROUGHT THE KING OUT OF HIS DREAMS.
was, over his violated trust, she softened at once, and was all goodness
and gentleness toward him.
The boy made a hearty and satisfying meal, and was greatly
refreshed and gladdened by it. It was a meal which was distinguished
by this curious feature, that rank was waived on both sides; yet
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS. 223
neither recipient of the favour was aware that it had been extended.
The goodwife had intended to feed this young tramp with broken
victuals in a corner, like any other tramp, or like a dog ; but she was
so remorseful for the scolding she had given him, that she did what
she could to atone for it by allowing him to sit at the family table
and eat with his betters, on ostensible terms of equality with them ;
and the King, on his side, was so remorseful for having broken his
trust, after the family had been so kind to him, that lie forced himself
to atone for it by humbling himself to the family level, instead of
requiring the woman and her children to stand and wait upon him
while he occupied their table in the solitary state due his birth and
dignity. It does us all good to unbend sometimes. This good woman
was made happy all the day long by the applauses which she got out
of herself for her magnanimous condescension to a tramp ; and the
King was just as self-complacent over his gracious humility toward a
humble peasant woman.
When breakfast was over, the housewife told the King to wash up
the dishes. This command was a staggerer, for a moment, and the
King came near rebelling ; but then he said to himself, " Alfred the
Great watched the cakes ; doubtless he would have washed the dishes,
too therefore will I essay it."
He made a sufficiently poor job of it ; and to his surprise too, for
the cleaning of wooden spoons and trenchers had seemed an easy thing
to do. It was a tedious and troublesome piece of work, but he finished
it at last. He was becoming impatient to get away on his journey
now ; however, he was not to lose this thrifty dame's society so easily.
She furnished him some little odds and ends of employment, which he
got through with after a fair fashion and with some credit. Then she
set him and the little girls to paring some winter apples ; but he was
so awkward at this service, that she retired him from it and gave him
a butcher knife to grind. Afterwards she kept him carding wool until
he began to think he had laid the good King Alfred about far enough
in the shade for the present, in the matter of showy menial heroisms
that would read picturesquely in story-books and histories, and so he
224
THE PRINCE WITH THE PEASANTS.
was
the
half-minded to resign. And when, just after the noonday dinner,
goodwife gave him a basket of kittens to drown, he did resign.
At least he Avas just going to
resign for he felt that he
must draw the line some-
where, and it seemed to him
that to draw it at kitten-
drowning was about the right
thing when there was an in-
terruption. The interruption
was John Canty with a
peddler's pack on his
back and Hugo !
The King discovered these
rascals approaching the front
gate before they had had a
chance to see him ; so he said
nothing about drawing the
line, but took up his basket
of kittens and stepped quietly
out the back way, without a
GAVE HIM A BUTCHEE KNIFE TO GRIND. WQrd> JJ e
in an out-house, and hurried on, into a narrow lane at the rear.
227
CHAPTER XX.
THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
THE high hedge hid him from the house, now ; and so, under the
impulse of a deadly fright, he let out all his forces and sped toward a
" HE TURNED AND DESCRIED TWO
FIGURES."
wood in the distance. He
never looked back until he had
almost gained the shelter of
the forest ; then he turned and
descried two figures in the
distance. That was sufficient ;
Q2
228 THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
he did not -wait to scan them critically, but hurried on, and never
abated his pace till he was far within the twilight depths of the wood.
Then he stopped ; being persuaded that he was now tolerably safe.
He listened intently, but the stillness was profound and solemn-
awful, even, and depressing to the spirits. At wide intervals his
straining ear did detect sounds, but they were so remote, and hollow,
and mysterious, that they seemed not to be real sounds, but only the
moaning and complaining ghosts of departed ones. So the sounds were
yet more dreary than the silence which they interrupted.
It was his purpose, in the beginning, to stay where he was, the rest
of the day ; but a chill soon invaded his perspiring body, and he was
at last obliged to resume movement in order to get warm. He struck
straight through the forest, hoping to pierce to a road presently, but
he was disappointed in this. He travelled on and on ; but the farther
he went, the denser the wood became, apparently. The gloom began
to thicken, by and by, and the King realised that the night was coming
on. It made him shudder to think of spending it in such an uncanny
place ; so he tried to hurry faster, but he only made the less speed, for
he could not now see well enough to choose his steps judiciously;
consequently he kept tripping over roots and tangling himself in vines
and briers.
And how glad he was when at last he caught the glimmer of a
light ! He approached it warily, stopping often to look about him and
listen. It came from an unglazed window-opening in a shabby little
hut. He heard a voice, now, and felt a disposition to run and hide ;
but he changed his mind at once, for this voice was praying, evidently.
He glided to the one window of the hut, raised himself on tiptoe, and
stole a glance within. The room was small ; its floor was the natural
earth, beaten hard by use ; in a corner was a bed of rushes and a
ragged blanket or two ; near it was a pail, a cup, a basin, and two or
three pots and pans ; there was a short bench and a three-legged stool ;
on the hearth the remains of a faggot fire were smouldering ; before a
shrine, which was lighted by a single candle, knelt an aged man, and
on an old wooden box at his side lay an open book and a hum'an skull.
THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
229
The man was of large, bony frame ; his hair and whiskers were very
long and snowy white ; he was clothed in a robe of sheepskins which
reached from his neck to his heels.
" A holy hermit ! " said the King to himself ; " now am I indeed
fortunate."
" THE KING ENTERED AND PAUSED
The hermit rose from his
knees ; the King knocked. A
deep voice responded
" Enter ! but leave sin
behind, for the ground whereon
thou shalt stand is holy ! '
The King entered, and
paused. The hermit turned a pair of gleaming, unrestful eyes upon
him, and said
" Who art thou ? "
" I am the King," came the answer, with placid .simplicity.
230 THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
11 Welcome, King ! ' cried the hermit, with enthusiasm. Then,
bustling about with feverish activity, and constantly saying, " Welcome,
welcome," he arranged his bench, seated the King on it, by the hearth,
threw some faggots on the fire, and finally fell to pacing the floor, with
a nervous stride.
" Welcome ! Many have sought sanctuary here, but they were
not worthy, and were turned away. But a King who casts his crown
away, and despises the vain splendours of his office, and clothes his
body in rags, to devote his life to holiness and the mortification of the
flesh he is worthy, he is welcome ! here shall he abide all his days
till death come." The King hastened to interrupt and explain, but the
hermit paid no attention to him did not even hear him, apparently,
but went right on with his talk, with a raised voice and a growing
energy. " And thou shalt be at peace here. None shall find out thy
refuge to disquiet thee with supplications to return to that empty and
foolish life which God hath moved thee to abandon. Thou shalt pray
here ; thou shalt study the Book ; thou shalt meditate upon the follies
and delusions of this world, and upon the sublimities of the world to
come ; thou shalt feed upon crusts and herbs, and scourge thy body
with whips, daily, to the purifying of thy soul. Thou shalt wear a
hair shirt next thy skin ; thou shalt drink water only ; and thou shalt
be at peace ; yes, wholly at peace ; for whoso comes to seek thee shall
go his way again, baffled ; he shall not find thee, he shall not molest
thee."
The old man, still pacing back and forth, ceased to speak aloud,
and began to mutter. The King seized this opportunity to state his
case ; and he did it with an eloquence inspired by uneasiness and
apprehension. But the hermit went on muttering, and gave no heed.
And still muttering, he approached the King and said, impressively
" 'Sh ! I will tell you a secret ! ' He bent down to impart it, but
checked himself, and assumed a listening attitude. After a moment
or two he went on tiptoe to the window-opening, put his head out and
peered around in the gloaming, then came tiptoeing back again, put
his face close down to the King's, and whispered
THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
231
" I am an archangel ! '
The King started violently, and said to himself, " Would God I
were with the outlaws again ; for lo, now am I the prisoner of a mad-
man ! ' His apprehensions were heightened, and they showed plainly
in his face. In a low, excited voice, the hermit continued
" I see you feel my
atmosphere ! There's awe
in your face ! None may
be in this atmosphere and
not be thus affected ; for
it is the very atmosphere
of heaven. I go thither
and return, in the twink-
ling of an eye. I was
made an archangel on this
very spot, it is five years
ago, by angels sent, from
heaven to confer that
awful dignity. Their pre-
sence filled this place with
an intolerable brightness.
And they knelt to me,
King ! yes, they knelt to
me ! for I was greater
than they. I have walked
in the courts of heaven,
and held speech with the
patriarchs. Touch my
hand be not afraid
touch it. There - - now
thou hast touched a hand which has been clasped by Abraham
and Isaac and Jacob ! For I have walked in the golden courts, I have
seen the Deity face to face ! " He paused, to give this speech effect ;
then his face suddenly changed, and he started to his feet again
"I WILL TELL YOU A SECRET.
232 THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
saying, with angry energy, " Yes, I am an archangel ; a mere arch-
angel ! I that might have been pope ! It is verily true. I was told
it from heaven in a dream, twenty years ago ; ah, yes, I was to be
pope ! and I should have been pope, for Heaven had said it but
the King, dissolved my religious house, and I, poor obscure unfriended
monk, was cast homeless upon the world, robbed of my mighty des-
tiny ! ' Here he began to mumble again, and beat his forehead in
futile rage, with his fist ; now and then articulating a venomous curse,
and now and then a pathetic " Wherefore I am nought but an arch-
angel I that should have been pope ! "
So he went on, for an hour, whilst the poor little King sat and
suffered. Then all at once the old man's frenzy departed, and he
became all gentleness. His voice softened, he came down out of his
clouds, and fell to prattling along so simply and so humanly, that he
soon won the King's heart completely. The old devotee moved the
boy nearer to the fire and made him comfortable ; doctored his small
bruises and abrasions with a deft and tender hand ; and then set about
preparing and cooking a supper chatting pleasantly all the time,
and occasionally stroking the lad's cheek or patting his head, in such
a gently caressing way that in a little while all the fear and repulsion
inspired by the archangel were changed to reverence and affection for
the man.
This happy state of things continued while the two ate the supper:
then, after a prayer before the shrine, the hermit put the boy to bed,
in a small adjoining room, tucking him in as snugly and lovingly as
a mother might; and so, with a parting caress, left him and sat down
by the fire, and began to poke the brands about in an absent and aim-
less way. Presently he paused ; then tapped his forehead several
times with his fingers, as if trying to recall some thought which had
escaped from his mind. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Now he
started quickly up, and entered his guest's room, and said
" Thou art King ? "
" Yes," was the response, drowsily uttered.
"What King?"
THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
233
" Of England."
" Of England ! Then Henry is gone ! "
" Alack, it is so. I am his son."
A black frown settled down upon the hermit's face, and he
clenched his bony hands with a vindictive energy. He stood a few
7
CHATTING PLEASANTLY ALL THE TIME.
moments, breathing fast and swallowing repeatedly, then said in a
husky voice
" Dost know it was he that turned us out into the world houseless
and homeless ? '
There was no response. The old man bent down and scanned the
234 THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
boy's reposeful face and listened to his placid breathing. " He sleeps
sleeps soundly ; " and the frown vanished away and gave place to
an expression of evil satisfaction. A smile flitted across the dreaming
boy's features. The hermit muttered, " So his heart is happy ; "
and he turned away. He went stealthily about the place, seeking
here and there for something ; now and then halting to listen, now
and then jerking his head around and casting a quick glance toward
the bed ; and always muttering, always mumbling to himself. At
last he found what he seemed to want a rusty old butcher knife
and a whetstone. Then he crept to his place by the fire, sat himself
down, and began to whet the knife softly on the stone, still muttering,
mumbling, ejaculating. The winds sighed around the lonely place,
the mysterious voices of the night floated by out of the distances.
The shining eyes of venturesome mice and rats peered out at the old
man from cracks and coverts, but he went on with his work, rapt,
absorbed, and noted none of these things.
At long intervals he drew his thumb along the edge of his knife,
and nodded his head with satisfaction. " It grows sharper," he said ;
" yes, it grows sharper."
He took no note of the flight of time, but worked tranquilly on,
entertaining himself with his thoughts, which broke out occasionally
in articulate speech
" His father wrought us evil, he destroyed us and is gone down
into the eternal fires ! Yes, down into the eternal fires ! He escaped
us but it was God's will, yes it was God's will, we must not repine.
But he hath not escaped the fires ! no, he hath not escaped the
fires, the consuming, unpitying, remorseless fires and they are ever-
lasting ! "
And so he wrought; and still wrought; mumbling chuckling a
low rasping chuckle, at times and at times breaking again into
words
" It was his father that did it all. I am but an archangel but
for him, I should be pope ! '
The King stirred. The hermit sprang noiselessly to the bedside,
THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
235
and went down upon his knees, bending over the prostrate form with
his knife uplifted. The boy stirred again ; his eyes came open for an
instant, but there was no speculation in them, they saw nothing ; the
"DREW HIS THUMB ALONG THE EDGE."
next moment his tranquil breathing showed that his sleep was sound
once more.
The hermit watched and listened, for a time, keeping his position
236
THE PRINCE AND THE HERMIT.
and scarcely breathing ; then he slowly lowered his arm, and presently
crept away, saying,
" It is long past midnight it is not best that he should cry out,
lest by accident someone be passing."
He glided about his hovel, gathering a rag here, a thong there,
and another one yonder ; then he returned, and by careful and gentle
handling, he managed to tie the King's ankles together without wak-
ing him. Next he essayed to tie the wrists ; ho made several attempts
'' THE NEXT MOMENT THEY WERE BOUND."
to cross them, but the boy always drew one hand or the other away,
just as the cord was ready to be applied ; but at last, when the arch-
angel was almost ready to despair, the boy crossed his hands himself,
and the next moment they were bound. Now a bandage was passed
under the sleeper's chin and brought up over his head and tied fast
and so softly, so gradually, and so deftly were the knots drawn to-
gether and compacted, that the boy slept peacefully through it all
without stirring.
^^^lbj^ _:V_
239
CHAPTER XXI.
HENDON TO THE RESCUE.
THE old man glided away, stooping, stealthy, cat-like, and brought
the low bench. He seated himself upon it, half his body in the dim
and flickering light, and the other half in shadow ; and so, with his
craving eyes bent upon the slumbering boy, he kept his patient vigil
there, heedless of the drift of time, and softly whetted his knife, and
mumbled and chuckled ; and in aspect and attitude he resembled
nothing so much as a grizzly, monstrous spider, gloating over some
hapless insect that lay bound and helpless in his web.
After a long while, the old man, who was still gazing, yet not
seeing, his mind having settled into a dreamy abstraction, observed,
on a sudden, that the boy's eyes were open ! wide open and staring !
staring up in frozen horror at the knife. The smile of a gratified
devil crept over the old man's face, and he said, without changing his
attitude or his occupation
" Son of Henry the Eighth, hast thou prayed ? '
The boy struggled helplessly in his bonds, and at the same time
forced a smothered sound through his closed jaws, which the hermit
chose to interpret as an affirmative answer to his question.
" Then pray again. Pray the prayer for the dying ! "
A shudder shook the boy's frame, and his face blenched. Then
he struggled again to free himself turning and twisting himself this
way and that ; tugging frantically, fiercely, desperately but uselessly
210 HENDON TO THE RESCUE.
to burst his fetters; and all the while the old ogre smiled down
upon him, and nodded his head, and placidly whetted his knife;
mumbling, from time to time, " The moments are precious, they are
few and precious pray the prayer for the dying ! '
The boy uttered a despairing groan, and ceased from his struggles,
panting. The tears came, then, and trickled, one after the other,
down his face ; but this piteous sight wrought no softening effect upon
the savage old man.
The dawn was coming, now ; the hermit observed it, and spoke up
sharply, with a touch of nervous apprehension in his voice
" I may not indulge this ecstasy longer ! The night is already
gone. It seems but a moment only a moment ; would it had endured
a year ! Seed of the Church's spoiler, close thy perishing eyes, an'
thou fearest to look upon
The rest was lost in inarticulate mutterings. The old man sank upon
his knees, his knife in his hand, and bent himself over the moaning boy
Hark ! There was a sound of voices near the cabin the knife
dropped from the hermit's hand ; he cast a sheepskin over the boy and
started up, trembling. The sounds increased, and presently the voices
became rough and angry ; then came blows, and cries for help ; then
a clatter of swift footsteps, retreating. Immediately came a succession
of thundering knocks upon the cabin door, followed by
" Hullo-o-o ! Open ! And despatch, in the name of all the
devils ! "
Oh, this was the blessedest sound that had ever made music in the
King's ears ; for it was Miles Hendon's voice !
The hermit, grinding his teeth in impotent rage, moved swiftly
out of the bedchamber, closing the door behind him ; and straight-
way the King heard a talk, to this effect, proceeding from the
" chapel "-
" Homage and greeting, reverend sir ! Where is the boy my
boy?"
"What boy, friend?"
" What boy ! Lie me no lies, sir priest, play me no deceptions !-
TO THE RESCUE.
241
I am not in the humour for it. Near to this place I caught the scoun-
drels who I judged did steal him from me, and I made them confess;
they said he was at large again, and they had tracked him to your
door. They showed me his very footprints. Now palter no more ; for
look you, holy sir, an' thou produce him not Where is the boy ? "
" Oh, good sir, peradventure you mean the ragged regal vagrant that
tarried here the night. If such as you take an interest in such as he,
" SANK UPON HIS KNKES."
know, then, that I have sent him of an errand. He will be back
anon."
" How soon? How soon? Come, waste not the time cannot I
overtake him ? How soon will he be back ? "
" Thou need'st not stir ; he will return quickly."
" So be it, then. I will try to wait. But stop ! you sent him
of an errand ? you ! Verily this is a lie he would not go. He
R
242 HENDON TO THE RESCUE.
would pull thy old beard, an' thou didst offer him such an insolence.
Thou hast lied, friend; thou hast surely lied ! He would not go for
thee, nor for any man."
" For any man no ; haply not. But I am not a man."
" What ! Now o' God's name what art thou, then ? "
" It is a secret mark thou reveal it not. I am an archangel ! '
There was a tremendous ejaculation from Miles Hendon not
altogether unprofane followed by
" This doth well and truly account for his complaisance ! Right
well I knew he would budge nor hand nor foot in the menial service
of any mortal ; but, lord, even a king must obey when an arch-
angel gives the word o' command ! Let me 'sh ! What noise was
that ? "
All this while the little King had been yonder, alternately quaking
with terror and trembling with hope ; and all the while, too, he had
thrown all the strength he could into his anguished meanings, con-
stantly expecting them to reach Hendon's ear, but always realising,
with bitterness, that they failed, or at least made no impression. So
this last remark of his servant came as comes a reviving breath from
fresh fields to the dying ; and he exerted himself once more, and with
all his energy, just as the hermit was saying
" Noise? I heard only the wind."
" Mayhap it was. Yes, doubtless that was it. I have been hear-
ing it faintly all the there it is again ! It is not the wind ! What
an odd sound ! Come, we will hunt it out ! ' :
Now the King's joy was nearly insupportable. His tired lungs
did their utmost and hopefully, too but the sealed jaws and the
muffling sheepskin sadly crippled the effort. Then the poor fellow's
heart sank, to hear the hermit say
" Ah, it came from without I think from the copse yonder.
Come, I will lead the way."
The King heard the two pass out, talking ; heard their footsteps
die quickly away- -then he was alone with a boding, brooding, awful
silence.
HENDON TO THE RESCUE.
243
It seemed an age till he heard the steps and voices approaching
again and this time he heard an added sound, the trampling of
hoofs, apparently. Then he heard Hendon say
" I will not wait longer. I cannot wait longer. He has lost his
way in this thick wood. Which direction took he ? Quick point it
out to me."
J
"THEX FOLLOWED A CONFUSION OF KICKS AND PLTJNGINGS."
" He but wait ; I will go with thee."
" Good good ! Why, truly thou art better than thy looks.
Marry I do not think there's not another archangel with so right a
heart as thine. Wilt ride ? Wilt take the wee donkey that's for my
boy, or wilt thou fork thy holy legs over this ill-conditioned slave of a
mule that I have provided for myself ? and had been cheated in
too, had he cost but the indifferent sum of a month's usury on a brass
farthing let to a tinker out of work."
R2
HENDOX TO THE RESCUE.
" No ride thy mule, and lead thine ass ; I am surer on mine own
feet, and will walk."
" Then prithee mind the little beast for me while I take my life
in my hands and make what success I may toward mounting the big
one."
Then followed a confusion of kicks, cuffs, tramplings and plun-
gings, accompanied by a thunderous intermingling of volleyed curses,
and finally a bitter apo-
strophe to the mule,
which must have broken
its . spirit, for hostilities
seemed to cease from that
moment.
With unutterable
; 'THE FETTERED LITTLE KING.
misery the fettered little King heard the voices and footsteps fade away
and die out. All hope forsook him, now, for the moment, and a dull
despair settled down upon his heart. " My only friend is deceived
and got rid of," he said; "the hermit will return and He
finished with a gasp and at once fell to struggling so frantically with
his bonds again, that he shook off the smothering sheepskin.
And now he heard the door open ! The sound chilled him to the
HEXDON TO THE RESCUE. 215
marrow already he seemed to feel the knife at his throat. Horror
made him close his eyes; horror made him open them again and
before him stood John Canty and Hugo !
He would have said " Thank God ! ' if his jaws had been free.
A moment or two later his limbs were at liberty, and his captors,
each gripping him by an arm, were hurrying him with all speed
through the forest.
219
CHAPTER XXII.
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
ONCE more " King Foo-Foo the First " was roving with the tramps
and outlaws, a butt for their coarse jests and dull-witted railleries, and
sometimes the victim of small spitefulnesses at the hands of Canty
and Hugo when the Ruffler's back was turned. None but Canty and
Hugo really disliked him. Some of the others liked him, and all
admired his pluck and spirit. During two or three days, Hugo, in
whose ward and charge the King w r as, did what he covertly could to
make the boy uncomfortable ; and at night, during the customary
orgies, he amused the company by putting small indignities upon him
always as if by accident. Twice he stepped upon the King's toes
accidentally and the King, as became his royalty, was contemptu-
ously unconscious of it and indifferent to it ; but the third time Hugo
entertained himself in that way, the King felled him to the ground with
a cudgel, to the prodigious delight of the tribe. Hugo, consumed with
anger and shame, sprang up, seized a cudgel, and came at his small
adversary in a fury. Instantly a ring was formed around the gladia-
tors, and the betting and cheering began. But poor Hugo stood no
chance whatever. His frantic and lubberly 'prentice- work found but
a poor market for itself when pitted against an arm which had been
trained by the first masters of Europe in single-stick, quarter- staff,
and every art and trick of swordsmanship. The little King stood,
alert but at graceful ease, and caught and turned aside the thick rain
250
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
of blows with a facility and precision which set the motley on-lookers
wild with admiration ; and every now and then, when his practised
eye detected an opening, and a lightning- swift rap upon Hugo's head
followed as a result, the storm of cheers and laughter that swept the
place was something wonderful to hear. At the end of fifteen minutes,
"HUGO STOOD NO CHANCE.
Hugo, all battered, bruised, and the target for a pitiless bombardment
of ridicule, slunk from the field ; and the unscathed hero of the fight
was seized and borne aloft upon the shoulders of the joyous rabble to
the place of honour beside the Ruffler, where with vast ceremony he
was crowned King of the Game- Cocks ; his meaner title being at
the same time solemnly cancelled and annulled, and a decree of banish-
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY. 251
ment from the gang pronounced against any who should thenceforth
utter it.
All attempts to make the King serviceable to the troop had failed.
He had stubbornly refused to act ; moreover, he was always trying to
escape. He had been thrust into an unwatched kitchen, the first day
of his return ; he not only came forth empty-handed, but tried to rouse
the housemates. He was sent out with a tinker to help him at his
work ; he would not work ; moreover, he threatened the tinker with
his own soldering-iron ; and finally both Hugo and the tinker found
their hands full with the mere matter of keeping him from getting
away. He delivered the thunders of his royalty upon the heads of all
who hampered his liberties or tried to force him to service. He was
sent out, in Hugo's charge, in company with a slatternly woman and
a diseased baby, to beg ; but the result was not encouraging he
declined to plead for the mendicants, or be a party to their cause in
any way.
Thus several days went by ; and the miseries of this tramping life,
and the weariness and sordidness and meanness and vulgarity of it,
became gradually and steadily so intolerable to the captive that he
began at last to feel that his release from the hermit's knife must
G
prove only a temporary respite from death, at best.
But at night, in his dreams, these things were forgotten, and he
was on his throne, and master again. This, of course, intensified the
sufferings of the awakening so the mortifications of each succeeding
morning of the few that passed between his return to bondage and the
combat with Hugo, grew bitterer and bitterer, and harder and harder
to bear.
.The morning after that combat, Hugo got up with a heart filled
with vengeful purposes against the King. He had two plans, in par-
ticular. One was to inflict upon the lad what would be, to his proud
spirit and "imagined" royalty, a peculiar humiliation ; and if he failed
to accomplish this, his other plan was to put a crime of some kind
upon the King, and then betray him into the implacable clutches of the
law.
252 A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
In pursuance o the first plan, he purposed to put a " clime " upon
the King's leg ; rightly judging that that would mortify him to the
last and perfect degree ; and as soon as the clime should operate, he
meant to get Canty's help, and/orce the King to expose his leg in the
highway and beg for alms. " Clime " was the cant term for a sore,
artificially created. To make a clime, the operator made a paste or
poultice of unslaked lime, soap, and the rust of old iron, and spread
it upon a piece of leather, which was then bound tightly upon the leg.
This would presently fret off the skin, and make the flesh raw and
angry-looking; blood was then rubbed upon the limb, which, being
fully dried, took on a dark and repulsive colour. Then a bandage of
soiled rags was put on in a cleverly careless way which would allow
the hideous ulcer to be seen, and move the compassion of the passer-
by. 1
Hugo got the help of the tinker whom the King had cowed with the
soldering-iron ; they took the boy out on a tinkering tramp, and as
soon as they were out of sight of the camp they threw him down and
the tinker held him while Hugo bound the poultice tight and fast upon
his leg.
The King raged and stormed, and promised to hang the two the
moment the sceptre was in his hand again ; but they kept a firm grip
upon him and enjoyed his impotent struggling and jeered at his
threats. This continued until the poultice began to bite ; and in no
long time its work would have been perfected, if there had been no
interruption. But there was; for about this time the " slave " who
had made the speech denouncing England's laws, appeared on the
scene, and put an end to the enterprise, and stripped off the poultice
and bandage.
The King wanted to borrow his deliverer's cudgel and warm the
jackets of the two rascals on the spot ; but the man said no, it would
bring trouble leave the matter till night ; the whole tribe being
together, then, the outside world would not venture to interfere or
interrupt. He marched the party back to camp and reported the affair
1 From "The English Eogue." London, 1665.
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
253
to the Ruffler, who listened, pondered, and then decided that the King
should not be again detailed to beg, since it was plain he was worthy
of something higher and better wherefore, on the spot he promoted
him from the mendicant rank and appointed him to steal !
Hugo was overjoyed. He had already tried to make the King
HUGO BOUND THE POULTICE TIGHT AND FAST.
steal, and failed; but there would be no more / /
trouble of that sort, now, for of course the Kino-
would not dream of defying a distinct command
delivered directly from head-quarters. So he planned a raid for
that very afternoon, purposing to get the King in the law's grip in
the course of it ; and to do it, too, with such ingenious strategy, that
it should seem to be accidental and unintentional ; for the King of the
Game-Cocks was popular now, and the gang might not deal over-
gen tly with an unpopular member who played so serious a treachery
upon him as the delivering him over to the common enemy, the law.
254
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
Very well. All in good time Hugo strolled off to a neighbouring
village with his prey ; and the two drifted slowly up and down one
street after another, the one watching sharply for a sure chance to
achieve his evil purpose, and the other watching as sharply for a
chance to dart away and get
free of his infamous captivity
for ever.
Both threw away some
tolerably fair-looking op-
portunities; for both, in
their secret hearts, were
resolved to make absolutely
sure work this time, and
neither meant to allow his
fevered desires to seduce
him into any venture that
had much uncertainty about it.
Hugo's chance came first. For at last a woman approached who
carried a fat package of some sort in a basket. Hugo's eyes sparkled
TARBY
TILL i COME AGAIN.
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY. 255
with sinful pleasure as he said to himself, " Breath o' my life, an' I can
but put that upon him, 'tis good-den and God keep thee, King of the
Game-Cocks ! ' He -waited and watched outwardly patient, but
inwardly consuming with excitement till the woman had passed by,
and the time was ripe ; then said, in a low voice
" Tarry here till I come again," and darted stealthily after the
prey.
The King's heart was filled with joy he could make his escape,
now, if Hugo's quest only carried him iar enough away.
But he was to have no such luck. Hugo crept behind the woman,
snatched the package, and came running back, wrapping it in an old
piece of blanket which he carried on his arm. The hue and cry was
raised in a moment, by the woman, who knew her loss by the light-
ening of her burden, although she had not seen the pilfering done.
Hugo thrust the bundle into the King's hands without halting,
saying
" Now speed ye after me with the rest, and cry ' Stop thief! ' but
mind ye lead them astray ! '
The next moment Hugo turned a corner and darted down a crooked
alley, and in another moment or two he lounged into view again, looking
innocent and indifferent, and took up a position behind a post to watch
results.
The insulted King threw the bundle on the ground ; and the
blanket fell away from it just as the woman arrived, with an augment-
ing crowd at her heels ; she seized the King's wrist with one hand,
snatched up her bundle with the other, and began to pour out a tirade
of abuse upon the boy while he struggled, without success, to free him-
self from her grip.
Hugo had seen enough his enemy was captured and the law
would get him, now so he slipped away, jubilant and chuckling, and
wended campwards, framing a judicious version of the matter to give
to the Kuffler's crew as he strode along.
The King continued to struggle in the woman's strong grasp, and
now and then cried out in vexation
256
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
11 Unhand me, thou foolish creature ; it was not I that bereaved
th ee of thy paltry goods."
The crowd closed around, threatening the King and calling him
names ; a brawny blacksmith in leather apron, and sleeves rolled to his
''THE KING SPRANG TO HIS DELIVERERS SIDE.
elbows, made a reach for him, saying he would trounce him well, for a
lesson ; but just then a long sword flashed in the air and fell with con-
vincing force upon the man's arm, flat side down, the fantastic owner of
it remarking pleasantly, at the same time
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY. 257
" Marry, good souls, let us proceed gently, not with ill blood and
uncharitable words. This is matter for the law's consideration, not
private and unofficial handling. Loose thy hold from the boy, good-
wife."
The blacksmith averaged the stalwart soldier with a glance, then
went muttering away,, rubbing his arm ; the woman released the boy's
wrist reluctantly ; the crowd eyed the stranger unlovingly, but pru-
dently closed their mouths. The King sprang to his deliverer's side,
with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, exclaiming
" Thou hast lagged sorely, but thou comest in good season, now,
Sir Miles ; carve me this rabble to rags ! '
s 2
261
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE PRINCE A PRISONER.
HENDON forced back a smile, and bent down and whispered in the King's
ear
" Softly, softly, my prince, wag thy tongue warily nay, suffer it
not to wag at all. Trust in me all shall go well in the end." Then
he added, to himself: " Sir Miles ! Bless me, I had totally forgot I
was a knight ! Lord, how marvellous a thing it is, the grip his
memory doth take upon his quaint and crazy fancies ! . . . An empty
and foolish title is mine, and yet it is something to have deserved it ;
for I think it is more honour to be held worthy to be a spectre-knight
in his Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows, than to be held base enough
to be an earl in some of the real kingdoms of this world."
The crowd fell apart to admit a constable, who approached and
was about to lay his hand upon the King's shoulder, when Hendon
said
" Gently, good friend, withhold your hand he shall go peaceably ;
I am responsible for that. Lead on, we will follow."
The officer led, with the woman and her bundle ; Miles and the
King followed after, with the crowd at their heels. The King was in-
clined to rebel ; but Hendon said to him in a low voice
"Reflect, Sire your laws are the wholesome breath of your own
royalty ; shall their source resist them, yet require the branches to
respect them ? Apparently one of these laws has been broken ; when
the King is on his throne again, can it ever grieve him to remember
262
THE PRINCE A PRISONER.
that when he was seemingly a private person he loyally sank the king
in the citizen and submitted to its authority? '
" Thou art right ; say no more ; thou shalt see that whatsoever the
"GENTLY, GOOD FRIEND."
King of England requires a subject to suffer under the law, he will
himself suffer while he holdeth the station of a subject."
When the woman was called upon to testify before the justice of
the peace, she swore that the small prisoner at the bar was the person
who had committed the theft ; there was none able to show the con-
THE PRINCE A PRISONER. 2G3
trary, so the King stood convicted. The bundle was now unrolled, and
when the contents proved to be a plump little dressed pig, the judge
look troubled, whilst Hendon turned pale, and his body was thrilled
with an electric shiver of dismay ; but the King remained unmoved, pro-
tected by his ignorance. The judge meditated, during an ominous
pause, then turned to the woman, with the question
" What dost thou hold this property to be worth 1 ' :
The woman courtesied and replied
" Three shillings and eightpence, your worship I could not abate a
penny and set forth the value honestly."
The justice glanced around uncomfortably upon the crowd, then
nodded to the constable, and said
" Clear the court and close the doors."
It was done. None remained but the two officials, the accused, the
accuser, and Miles Hendon. This latter was rigid and colourless, and
on his forehead big drops of cold sweat gathered, broke and blended
together, and trickled down his face. The judge turned to the woman
again, and said, in a compassionate voice
" 'Tis a poor ignorant lad, and mayhap was driven hard by hunger,
for these be grievous times for the unfortunate : mark you, he hath not
an evil face but when hunger driveth Good woman ! dost know
that when one steals a thing above the value of thirteenpence ha'penny
the law saith he shall hang for it ? '
The little King started, wide-eyed with consternation, but controlled
himself and held his peace ; but not so the woman. She sprang to her
feet, shaking with fright, and cried out
" Oh, good lack, what have I done ! God-a-mercy, I would not hang
the poor thing for the whole world ! Ah, save me from this, your
worship what shall I do, what can I do ? '
The justice maintained his judicial composure, and simply said
" Doubtless it is allowable to revise the value, since it is not yet
writ upon the record."
" Then in God's name call the pig eightpence, and heaven bless the
day that freed my conscience of this awesome thing ! "
264
THE PRINCE A PRISONER.
Miles Hen don forgot all decorum in his delight ; and surprised the
King and wounded his dignity, by throwing his arms around him and
hugging him. The woman made her grateful adieux and started away
with her pig ; and when the constable opened the door for her, he
SHE SPRANG TO HER FEET.
followed her out into the narrow
hall. The justice proceeded to
write in his record book. Hendon,
always alert, thought he would
like to know why the officer fol-
lowed the woman out ; so he
slipped softly into the dusky hall and listened. He heard a conversa-
tion to this effect
"It is a fat pig, and promises good eating; I will buy it of thee ;
here is the eightpence."
" Eightpence, indeed ! Thou'lt do no such thing. It cost me
three shillings and eightpence, good honest coin of the last reign, that
THE PRINCE A PRISONER. 265
old Harry that's just dead ne'er touched or tampered with. A fig for
thy eightpence ! '
" Stands the wind in that quarter? Thou wast under oath, and so
swore falsely when thou saidst the value was but eightpence. Come
straightway back with me before his worship, and answer for the
crime ! and then the lad will hang."
" There, there, dear heart, say no more, I am content. Give me
the eightpence, and hold thy peace about the matter."
The woman went off crying : Hendon slipped back into the court
room, and the constable presently followed, after hiding his prize in
some convenient place. The justice wrote a while longer, then read
the King a wise and kindly lecture, and sentenced him to a short im-
prisonment in the common jail, to be followed by a public flogging.
The astounded King opened his mouth, and was probably going to order
the good judge to be beheaded on the spot; but he caught a warning
sign from Hendon, and succeeded in closing his mouth again before he
lost anything out of it. Hendon took him by the hand, now, made
reverence to the justice, and the two departed in the wake of the
constable toward the jail. The moment the street was reached, the
inflamed monarch halted, snatched away his hand, and exclaimed
" Idiot, dost imagine I will enter a common jail alive ? "
Hendon bent down and said, somewhat sharply
" Will you trust in me ? Peace ! and forbear to worsen our
chances with dangerous speech. What God wills, will happen ; thou
canst not hurry it, thou canst not alter it ; therefore wait, and be
patient 'twill be time enow to rail or rejoice when what is to happen
has happened." l
1 See Notes to Chapter XXIII., at end of volume.
SCHPGSM
269
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE ESCAPE.
THE short winter day was nearly ended. The streets were deserted,
save for a few random stragglers, and these hurried straight along, with
the intent look of people who were only anxious to accomplish their
errands as quickly as possible, and then snugly house themselves from
the rising wind and the gathering twilight. They looked neither to
the right nor to the left ; they paid no attention to our party, they did
not even seem to see them. Edward the Sixth wondered if the spec-
tacle of a king on his way to jail had ever encountered such mar-
vellous indifference before. By and by the constable arrived at a
deserted market-square, and proceeded to cross it. When he had reached
the middle of it, Hendon laid his hand upon his arm, and said in a low
voice
" Bide a moment, good sir, there is none in hearing, and I would
say a word to thee."
" My duty forbids it, sir; prithee hinder me not, the night comes
on."
" Stay, nevertheless, for the matter concerns thee nearly. Turn thy
back a moment and seem not to see: let this poor lad escape"
11 This to me, sir ! I arrest thee in "
" Nay, be not too hasty. See thou be careful and commit no
foolish error " then he shut his voice down to a whisper, and said in
the man's ear " the pig thou hast purchased for eightpence may cost
thee thy neck, man ! "
270
THE ESCAPE.
The poor constable, taken by surprise, was speechless, at first, then
found his tongue and fell to blustering and threatening ; but Hendon
was tranquil, and waited with patience till his breath was spent ; then
said
" I have a liking to thee, friend, and would not willingly see thee
conie to harm. Observe, I heard it all every word. I will prove
it to thee." Then he repeated the conversation which the officer and
"THE PIG MAY COST THEE THY NECK, MAN."
the woman had had together in the hall, word for word, and ended
with
" There have I set it forth correctly ? Should not I be able to
set it forth correctly before the judge, if occasion required? "
The man was dumb with fear and distress, for a moment ; then he
rallied, and said with forced lightness
" 'Tis making a mighty matter indeed, out of a jest ; I but plagued
the woman for mine amusement."
" Kept you the woman's pig for amusement ? '
THE ESCAPE. 271
The man answered sharply
" Nought else, good sir I tell thee 'twas but a jest."
" I do begin to believe thee," said Hendon, with a perplexing mix-
ture of mockery and half-conviction in his tone ; " but tarry thou here
a moment whilst I run and ask his worship for nathless, he being a
man experienced in law, in jests, in
He was moving away, still talking; the constable hesitated,
fidgeted, spat out an oath or two, then cried out
" Hold, hold, good sir prithee wait a little the judge ! Why, man,
he hath no more sympathy with a jest than hath a dead corpse ! come,
and we will speak further. Ods body ! I seem to be in evil case
and all for an innocent and thoughtless pleasantry. I am a man of
family ; and my wife and little ones List to reason, good your
worship : what wouldst thou of me ? '
" Only that thou be blind and dumb and paralytic whilst one may
count a hundred thousand counting slowly," said Hendon, with the
expression of a man who asks but a reasonable favour, and that a very
little one.
" It is my destruction ! " said the constable despairingly. " Ah, be
reasonable, good sir ; only look at this matter, on all its sides, and see
how mere a jest it is how manifestly and how plainly it is so. And
even if one granted it were not a jest, it is a fault so small that e'en
the grimmest penalty it could call forth would be but a rebuke and
warning from the judge's lips."
Hendon replied with a solemnity which chilled the air about him
" This jest of thine hath a name, in law, wot you what it is? ''
" I knew it not ! Peradventure I have been unwise. I never
dreamed it had a name ah, sweet heaven, I thought it was original."
" Yes, it hath a name. In the law this crime is called Non compos
mentis lex talionis sic transit gloria mundi"
" Ah, my God ! "
" And the penalty is death ! '
" God be merciful to me, a sinner ! "
" By advantage taken of one in fault, in dire peril, and at thy
272
THE ESCAPE.
mercy, tbou hast seized goods worth above thirteenpence ha'penny,
paying but a trifle for the same ; and this, in the eye of the laAv, is
constructive barratry, misprision of treason, malfeasance in office, ad
" BEAK ME UP, BEAK ME UP, SWEET SIK ! "
/hominem expurgatis in statu quo and the penalty is death by the
(halter, without ransom, commutation, or benefit of clergy."
" Bear me up, bear me up, sweet sir, my legs do fail me ! Be them
THE ESCAPE. 273
merciful spare me this doom, and I will turn my back and see
nought that shall happen."
" Good ! now thou'rt wise and reasonable. And thou'lt restore
the pig ? "
" I will, I will indeed nor ever touch another, though heaven send
it and an archangel fetch it. Go I am blind for thy sake I see
nothing. I will say thou didst break in and wrest the prisoner from
my hands by force. It is but a crazy, ancient door I will batter it
down myself betwixt midnight and the morning."
" ( Do it, good soul, no harm will come of it ; the judge hath a loving
charity for this poor lad, and will shed no tears and break no jailer's
bones for his escape."
enbon
T 2
277
CHAPTER XXV.
HENDON HALL.
As soon as Hendon and the King were out of sight of the constable, his
Majesty was instructed to hurry to a certain place outside the town, and
wait there, whilst Hendon should go to the inn and settle his account.
Half an hour later the two friends were blithely jogging eastward on
Hendon's sorry steeds. The King was warm and comfortable, now, for
he had cast his rags and clothed himself in the second-hand suit which
Hendon had bought on London Bridge.
Hendon wished to guard against over-fatiguing the boy ; he judged
that hard journeys, irregular meals, and illiberal measures of sleep
would be bad for his crazed mind ; whilst rest, regularity, and moderate
exercise would be pretty sure to hasten its cure ; he longed to see the
stricken intellect made well again and its diseased visions driven out
of the tormented little head ; therefore he resolved to move by easy
stages toward the home whence he had so long been banished, instead
of obeying the impulse of his impatience and hurrying along night and
day.
When he and the King had journeyed about ten miles, they reached
a considerable village, and halted there for the night, at a good inn.
The former relations were resumed ; Hendon stood behind the King's
chair, while he dined, and waited upon him ; undressed him when he
was ready for bed ; then took the floor for his own quarters, and slept
athwart the door, rolled up in a blanket.
278
HEN DON HALL.
The next day, and the day after, they jogged lazily along talking
over the adventures they had met since their separation, and mightily
enjoying each other's narratives. Hendon detailed all his wide wander-
ings in search of the King, and described how the archangel had led
"JOGGING EASTWARD ON SOEEY STEEDS."
him a fool's journey all over the forest, and taken him back to the hut,
finally, when he found he could not get rid of him. Then he said
the old man went into the bedchamber and came staggering back look-
ing broken-hearted, and saying he had expected to find that the boy had
returned and lain down in there to rest, but it was not so. Hendon
HENDON HALL. 279
had waited at the hut all day ; hope of the King's return died out, then,
and he departed upon the quest again.
" And old Sanctum Sanctorum luas truly sorry your highness came
not back," said Hendon ; " I saw it in his face."
" Marry I will never doubt that ! " said the King and then told
his own story ; after which, Hendon was sorry he had not destroyed the
archangel.
During the last day of the trip, Hendon's spirits were soaring. His
tongue ran constantly. He talked about his old father, and his brother
Arthur, and told of many things which illustrated their high and gene-
rous characters ; he went into loving frenzies over his Edith, and was
so glad-hearted that he was even able to say some gentle and brotherly
things about Hugh. He dwelt a deal on the coming meeting at Hendon
Hall; what a surprise it would be to everybody, and what an outburst
of thanksgiving and delight there would be.
It was a fair region, dotted with cottages and orchards, and the road
led through broad pasture lands whose receding expanses, marked with
gentle elevations and depressions, suggested the swelling and subsiding
undulations of the sea. In the afternoon the returning prodigal made
constant deflections from his course to see if by ascending some hillock
he might not pierce the distance and catch a glimpse of his home. At
last he was successful, and cried out excitedly
" There is the village, my Prince, and there is the Hall close by !
You may see the towers from here; and that wood there that is my
father's park. Ah, now thou'lt know what state and grandeur be !
A house with seventy rooms think of that ! and seven and twenty
servants ! A brave lodging for such as we, is it not so ? Come, let us
speed my impatience will not brook further delay."
All possible hurry was made ; still, it was after three o'clock before
the village was reached. The travellers scampered through it, Hendon's
tongue going all the time. " Here is the church covered with the
same ivy none gone, none added." " Yonder is the inn, the old Red
Lion, and yonder is the market-place." " Here is the Maypole, and
here the pump nothing is altered ; nothing but the people, at any
280
SEND ON HALL.
rate ; ten years make a change in people ; some of these I seem to
know, but none know me." So his chat ran on. The end of the village
was soon reached ; then the travellers struck into a crooked, narrow
road, walled in with tall hedges, and hurried briskly along it for half a
" THERE IS THE VILLAGE, MY PRINCE."
mile, then passed into a vast flower garden through an imposing gate-
way, whose huge stone pillars bore sculptured armorial devices. A
noble mansion was before them.
" Welcome to Hendon Hall, my King ! " exclaimed Miles. " Ah,
'tis a great day ! My father and my brother, and the Lady Edith
will be so mad with joy that they will have eyes and tongue for none
but me in the first transports of the meeting, and so thou'lt seeni but
HENDON HALL.
282
coldly welcomed but mind it not; 'twill soon seem otherwise; for
when I say thou art my ward, and tell them how costly is my love for
thee, thou'lt see them take thee to their breasts for Miles Hendon's
sake, and make their house and hearts thy home for ever after ! '
The next moment Hendon sprang to the ground before the great
door, helped the King down, then took him by the hand and rushed
within. A few steps brought him to a spacious apartment ; he entered,.
" ' EMBRACE ME, HUGH,' HE CEIED."
seated the King with more hurry than ceremony, then ran toward a
young man who sat at a writing table in front of a generous fire of
logs.
" Embrace me, Hugh," he cried, " and say thou'rt glad I am come
again ! and call our father, for home is not home till I shall touch his
hand, and see his face, and hear his voice once more ! ' :
But Hugh only drew back, after betraying a momentary surprise,.
282 HENDOy HALL.
and bent a grave stare upon the intruder a stare which indicated
somewhat of offended dignity, at first, then changed, in response to
some inward thought or purpose, to an expression of marvelling curi-
osity, mixed with a real or assumed compassion. Presently he said, in
a mild voice
"Thy wits seem touched, poor stranger; doubtless thou hast suffered
privations and rude buffetings at the world's hands ; thy looks and
dress betoken it. Whom dost thou take me to be ? '
" Take thee ? Prithee for whom else than whom thou art ? I take
thee to be Hugh Hendon," said Miles, sharply.
The other continued, in the same soft tone
" And whom dost thou imagine thyself to be? '
" Imagination hath nought to do with it ! Dost thou pretend thou
knowest me not for thy brother Miles Hendon ? '
An expression of pleased surprise flitted across Hugh's face, and he
exclaimed
" What ! thou art not jesting ? can the dead come, to life ? God be
praised if it be so ! Our poor lost boy restored to our arms after all
these cruel years ! Ah, it seems too good to be true, it is too good to be
true I charge thee, have pity, do not trifle with me ! Quick come
to the light let me scan thee well ! '
He seized Miles by the arm, dragged him to the window, and began
to devour him from head to foot with his eyes, turning him this way
and that, and stepping briskly around him and about him to prove
him from all points of view ; whilst the returned prodigal, all aglow
with gladness, smiled, laughed, and kept nodding his head and say-
mg-
" Go on, brother, go on, and fear not; thou'lt find nor limb nor
feature that cannot bide the test. Scour and scan me to thy content,
my good old Hugh I am indeed thy old Miles, thy same old Miles,
thy lost brother, is't not so ? Ah, 'tis a great day I said 'twas a
great day ! Give me thy hand, give me thy cheek lord, I am like to
die of very joy !"
He was about to throw himself upon his brother ; but Hugh put up
H END ON HALL.
283
his hand in dissent, then dropped his chin mournfully upon his breast,
saying with emotion
" Ah, God of his mercy give me strength to bear this grievous
disappointment ! '
Miles, amazed, could not speak, for a moment ; then he found his
tongue, and cried out
" HUGH PUT UP HIS HAND IN DISSENT. '
" What disappointment ? Am I not thy brother ? '
Hugh shook his head sadly, and said
" I pray heaven it may prove so, and that other eyes may find the
resemblances that are hid from mine. Alack, I fear me the letter
spoke but too truly."
" What letter ? "
" One that came from over sea, some six or seven years ago. It
said my brother died in battle."
284 SENDON HALL.
" It was a lie ! Call thy father he will know me."
" One may not call the dead."
" Dead ? ' Miles's voice was subdued, and his lips trembled. " My
father dead ! oh, this is heavy news. Half my new joy is withered
now. Prithee let me see my brother Arthur he will know me; he
will know me and console me."
" He, also, is dead."
" God be merciful to me, a stricken man ! Gone, both gone
the worthy taken and the worthless spared, in me ! Ah ! I crave your
mercy ! do not say the Lady Edith
" Is dead ? No, she lives."
"Then, God be praised, my joy is whole again! Speed thee,
brother let her come to me ! An' she say I am not myself, but
she will not ; no, no, she will know me, I were a fool to doubt it.
Bring her bring the old servants ; they, too, will know me."
" All are gone but five Peter, Ilalsey, David, Bernard, and
Margaret."
So saying, Hugh left the room. Miles stood musing a while, then
began to walk the floor, muttering
" The five arch-villains have survived the two-and-twenty leal and
honest 'tis an odd thing."
He continued walking back and forth, muttering to himself; he
had forgotten the King entirely. By and by his Majesty said gravely,
and with a touch of genuine compassion, though the words themselves
were capable of being interpreted ironically
" Mind not' thy mischance, good man : there be others in the world
whose identity is denied, and whose claims are derided. Thou hast
company."
" Ah, my King," cried Hendon, colouring slightly, " do not thou
condemn me wait, and thou shalt see. I am no impostor she
will say it ; you shall hear it from the sweetest lips in England. I an
impostor ? Why, I know this old hall, these pictures of my ancestors,
and all these things that are about us, as a child knoweth its own
nursery. Here was I born and bred, my lord ; I speak the truth ; I
NENDO LV HALL.
285
would not deceive thee ; and should none else believe, I pray thee do
not thou doubt me I could not bear it."
" I do not doubt thee," said the King, with a childlike simplicity
and faith.
" I thank thee out of my heart ! " exclaimed Hendon, with a
" A BEAUTIFUL LADY, RICHLY CLOTHED, FOLLOWED HUGH."
fervency which showed that he was touched. The King added, with
the same gentle simplicity
" Dost thou doubt me 1 "
A guilty confusion seized upon Hendon, and he was grateful that
the door opened to admit Hugh, at that moment, and saved him the
necessity of replying.
A beautiful lady, richly clothed, followed Hugh, and after her came
several liveried servants. The t lady walked slowly, with her head
286 HEXDOJf HALL.
bowed and her eyes fixed upon the floor. The face was unspeakably
sad. Miles Hendon sprang forward, crying out
"Oh, my Edith, my darling "
But Hugh waved him back, gravely, and said to the lady
" Look upon him. Do you know him ? '
At the sound of Miles's voice the woman had started slightly, and
her cheeks had flushed; she was trembling now. She stood still,
during an imprcs-ive pause of several moments; then slowly lifted
up her head and looked into Ilendon's eyes with a stony and fright-
ened gaze ; the blood sank out of her face, drop by drop, till nothing
remained but the grey pallor of death ; then she said, in a voice as
dead as the face, " I know him not ! " and turned, with a moan and a
stifled sob, and tottered out of the room.
Miles Ilcudon sank into a chair and covered his face with his
Lands. After a pause, his brother said to the servants
" You have observed him. Do you know him ? '
They shook their heads; then the master said-
" The servants know you not, sir. I fear there is some mistake.
You have seen that my wife knew you not."
" Thy wife! ' In an instant Hugh was pinned to the wall, with an
iron grip about his throat. " Oh, thoti fox-hearted slave, I see it all !
Thou'st writ the lying letter thyself, and my stolen bride and goods
are its fruit. There now get thee gone, lest I shame mine honourable
soldiership with the slaying of so pitiful a mannikin ! "
Hugh, red-faced, and almost suffocated, reeled to the nearest chair,
and commanded the servants to seize and bind the murderous stranger.
They hesitated, and one of them said
" He is armed, Sir Hugh, and we are weaponless."
" Armed ! "What of it, and ye so many ? Upon him, I say ! '
But Miles warned them to be careful what they did, and added-
" Ye know me of old I have not changed ; come on, an' it like
you."
This reminder did not hearten the servants much ; they still held
back.
HENDON HALL.
287
" Then go, ye paltry cowards, and arm yourselves and guard the
doors, whilst I send one to fetch the watch ; " said Hugh. He turned
at the threshold, and said to Miles, " You'll find it to your advantage
to offend not with useless endeavours at escape."
HUGH WAS PINNED TO THE WALL.
"Escape? Spare thyself discomfort, an' that is all that troubles
thee. For Miles Hendon is master of Hendon Hall and all its belong-
ings. He will remain doubt it not."
u
21)1
CHAPTER XXVI.
DISOWNED.
THE King sat musing a few moments, then looked up and said
" "Pis strange most strange. I cannot account for it."
" No, it is not strange, my liege. I know him, and this conduct is
but natural. He was a rascal from his birth."
" Oh, I spake not of him, Sir Miles."
" Not of him ? Then of what ? What is it that is strange ? "
" That the King is not missed."
" How ? Which ? I doubt I do not understand."
" Indeed ? Doth it not strike you as being passing strange that the
land is not filled with couriers and proclamations describing my person
and making search for me ? Is it no matter for commotion and dis-
tress that the Head of the State is gone ? that I am vanished away
and lost ? '
" Most true, my King, I had forgot." Then Hendon sighed, and
muttered to himself, " Poor ruined mind still busy with its pathetic
dream."
" But I have a plan that shall right us both I will write a paper,
in three tongues Latin, Greek, and English and thou shalt haste
away with it to London in the morning. Give it to none but my
uncle, the Lord Hertford : when he shall see it, he will know and say
I wrote it. Then he will send for me."
" Might it not be best, my prince, that we wait, here, until I prove
T3 2
292
DISOWNED.
myself and make my rights secure to my domains ? I should be so
much the better able then to "
The King interrupted him imperiously
" Peace ! What are thy paltry domains, thy trivial interests, con-
trasted with matters which
concern the weal of a na-
tion and the integrity of a
throne ! " Then he added,
in a n-ontle voice, as if he
" OBET, AND HAVE NO FEAE.
were sorry for his severity, " Obey, and have no fear ; I will right thee,
I will make thee whole yes, more than whole. I shall remember,
and requite."
So saying, he took the pen, and set himself to work. Hendon
contemplated him lovingly a while, then said to himself
DISOWNED. 293
" An' it were dark, I should think it was a king that spoke ; there's
no denying it, when the humour's upon him he doth thunder and lighten
like your true King now where got he that trick ? See him scribble
and scratch away contentedly at his meaningless pot-hooks, fancying
them to be Latin and Greek and except my wit shall serve me with
a lucky device for diverting him from his purpose, I shall be forced to
pretend to post away to-morrow on this wild errand he hath invented
for me."
The next moment Sir Miles's thoughts had gone back to the recent
episode. So absorbed was he in his musings, that when the King pre-
sently handed him the paper which he had been writing, he received it
and pocketed it without being conscious of the act. " How marvel-
lous strange she acted," he muttered. " I think she knew me and I
think she did not know me. These opinions do conflict, I perceive it
plainly ; I cannot reconcile them, neither can I, by argument, dismiss
either o the two, or even persuade one to outweigh the other. The
matter standeth simply thus : she must have known my face, my figure,
my voice, for how could it be otherwise ? yet she said she knew me
not, and that is proof perfect, for she cannot lie. But stop I think
I begin to see. Peradventure he hath influenced her commanded
her compelled her, to lie. That is the solution ! The riddle is
unriddled. She seemed dead with fear yes, she was under his com-
pulsion. I will seek her ; I will find her ; now that he is away, she
will speak her true mind. She will remember the old times when we
were little playfellows together, and this will soften her heart, and she
will no more betray me, but will confess me. There is no treacherous
blood in her no, she was always honest and true. She has loved me,
in those old days this is my security ; for whom one has loved, one
cannot betray."
He stepped eagerly toward the door ; at that moment it opened,
and the Lady Edith entered. She was very pale, but she walked with
a firm step, and her carriage was full of grace and gentle dignity.
Her face was as sad as before.
Miles sprang forward, with a happy confidence, to meet her, but
294 DISOWXED.
she cheeked him with a hardly perceptible gesture, and he stopped
where he was. She seated herself, and asked him to do likewise.
Thus simply did she take the sense of old-comradeship out of him, and
transform him into a stranger and a guest. The surprise of it, the
bewildering unexpectedness of it, made him begin to question, for a
moment, if he was the person he was pretending to be, after all. The
Lady Edith said
" Sir, I have come to warn you. The mad cannot be persuaded
out of their delusions, perchance; but doubtless they may be per-
suaded to avoid perils. I think this dn-am of yours hath the seeming
of honest truth to you, and therefore is not criminal but do not
tarry here with it ; for here it is dangerous." She looked steadily into
Miles' s face a moment, then added, impressively, " It is the more
dangerous for that you arc much like what our lost lad must have
grown to be if he had liv< d."
" Heavens, madam, but I am he ! "
" I truly think you think it, sir. I question not your honesty in
that I but warn you, that is all. My husband is master in this
region ; his power hath hardly any limit ; the people prosper or starve,
as he wills. If you resembled not the man whom you profess to be,
my husband might bid you pleasure yourself with your dream in
peace; but trust me, I know him well, I know what he will do ; he
will say to all that you are but a mad impostor, and straightway all
will echo him." She bent upon Miles that same steady look once
more, and added : " If you were Miles Hendon, and he knew it and all
the region knew it consider what I am saying, weigh it well you
would stand in the same peril, your punishment would be no less sure ;
he would deny you and denounce you, and none would be bold enough
to give you countenance."
" Most truly I believe it," said Miles, bitterly. '' The power that
can command one life-long friend to betray and disown another, and
be obeyed, may well look to be obeyed in quarters where bread and
life are on the stake and no cobweb ties of loyalty and honour are
concerned.'
DIS01YXED.
295
A faint tinge appeared for a momentum the lady's cheek, and she
dropped her eyes to the floor ; but her voice betrayed no emotion
when she proceeded
" I have warned you, I must still warn you, to go hence. This
man will destroy you, else.
He is a tyrant who knows no
pity. I, who am his fettered
slave, know this. Poor Miles,
and Arthur, and my dear
guardian, Sir Eichard, are free
of him, and at rest better
" AM I MILES HENDON ? "
that you were with them than that you bide here in the clutches of
this miscreant. Your pretensions are a menace to his title and pos-
sessions ; you have assaulted him in his own house you are ruined
if you stay. Go do not hesitate. If you lack money, take this
296 DISOWNED.
purse, I beg of you, and bribe the servants to let you pass. Oh, be
warned, poor soul, and escape while you may."
Miles declined the purse with a gesture, and rose up and stood
before her.
" Grant me one thing," he said. " Let your eyes rest upon mine,
so that I may see if they be steady. There now answer me. Am I
Miles Hendon ? "
-" No. I know you not."
" Swear it ! "
The answer was low, but distinct
" I swear."
" Oh, this passes belief ! "
" Fly ! "Why will you waste the precious time ? Fly, and save
yourself."
At that moment the officers burst into the room and a violent
struggle began ; but Hendon was soon overpowered and dragged away.
The King was taken, also, and both were bound, and led to prison.
CHAPTEE XXVII.
IN PRISON.
THE cells were all crowded ; so the two friends were chained in a
large room where persons charged with trifling offences were commonly
kept. They had company, for there were some twenty manacled and
fettered prisoners here, of both sexes and of varying ages, an obscene
and noisy gang. The King chafed bitterly over the stupendous indig-
nity thus put upon his royalty, but Hendon was moody and taciturn,
He was pretty thoroughly bewildered. He had come home, a jubilant
prodigal, expecting to find everybody wild with joy over his return ;
and instead had got the cold shoulder and a jail. The promise and the
fulfilment differed so widely, that the effect was stunning ; he could
not decide whether it was most tragic or most grotesque. He felt
much as a man might who had danced blithely out to enjoy a rainbow,
and got struck by lightning.
But gradually his confused and tormenting thoughts settled down
into some sort of order, and then his mind centred itself upon Edith.
He turned her conduct over, and examined it in all lights, but he could
not make anything satisfactory out of it. Did she know him ? or
didn't she know him ? It was a perplexing puzzle, and occupied him a
long time; but he ended, finally, with the conviction that she did know
him, and had repudiated him for interested reasons. He wanted to
load her name with curses now ; but this name had so long been sacred
to him that he found he could not bring his tongue to profane it.
300
7.V PRISOX.
"Wrapped in prison blankets of a soiled and tattered condition,
Ilendon and the King passed a troubled night. For a bribe the jailer
had furnished liquor to some of the prisoners ; singing of ribald songs,
fighting, shouting, and carousing, was the natural consequence. At last, a
while after midnight, a man attacked a woman and nearly killed her by
beating her over the head with his manacles before the jailer could
come to the rescue. The jailer restored peace by giving the man a
'CHAINED ix A LARGE ROOM.
sound clubbing about the head and shoulders then the carousing
ceased ; and after that, all had an opportunity to sleep who did not
mind the annoyance of the meanings and groanings of the two wounded
people.
During the ensuing week, the days and nights were of a monoto-
nous sameness, as to events; men whose faces Hendon remembered
more or less distinctly, came, by day, to gaze at the " impostor " and
repudiate and insult him ; and by night the carousing and brawling
IN PRISON. 301
went on, with symmetrical regularity. However, there was a change of
incident at last. The jailer brought in an old man, and said to him
" The villain is in this room cast thy old eyes about and see if
thou canst say which is he."
Hendon glanced up, and experienced a pleasant sensation for the
first time since he had been in the jail. He said to himself, " This is
Blake Andrews, a servant all his life in my father's family a good
honest soul, with a right heart in his breast. That is, formerly. But
none are true, now ; all are liars. This man will know me and wil)
deny me, too, like the rest."
The old man gazed around the room, glanced at each face in turn>
and finally said
" I see none here but paltry knaves, scum o' the streets. "Which
is he?"
The jailer laughed.
" Here," he said; " scan this big animal, and grant me an opinion."
The old man approached, and looked Hendon over, long and ear-
nestly, then shook his head and said-
" Marry, this is no Hendon nor ever was ! '
" Right ! Thy old eyes are sound yet. An' I were Sir Hugh, 1
would take the shabby carle and
The jailer finished by lifting himself a-tip-toe with an imaginary
halter, at the same time making a gurgling noise in his throat sugges-
tive of suffocation. The old man said, vindictively
" Let him bless God an' he fare no worse. An' / had the handling
o' the villain he should roast, or I am no true man ! '
The jailer laughed a pleasant hyena laugh, and said
" Give him a piece of thy mind, old man they all do it. Thou'lt
find it good diversion."
Then he sauntered toward his ante-room and disappeared. The old
man dropped upon his knees and whispered.
" God be thanked, thou'rt come again, my master ! I believed thou
wert dead these seven years, and lo, here thou art alive ! I knew thee
the moment I saw thee ; and main hard work it was to keep a stony
302
PRISOX.
countenance and seem to see none here but tuppenny knaves and rub-
bish o' the streets. I am old and poor, Sir Miles ; but say the word
and I will go forth and proclaim the truth though I be strangled
for it."
" THE OLD MAN LOOKED HENDON OVEB.
" No," said Ilendon ; " thou shalt not. It would ruin thee, and yet
help but little in my cause. But I thank thee ; for thou hast given
me back somewhat of my lost faith in my kind."
The old servant became very valuable to Ilendon and the King ; for
he dropped in several times a day to u abuse " the former, and always
JLV PR IS OX.
303
smuggled in a few delicacies to help out the prison bill of fare ; he also
furnished the current news. Hendon reserved the dainties for the
King ; without them his Majesty might not have survived, for he was
not able to eat the coarse and wretched food provided by the jailer.
Andrews was obliged to confine himself to brief visits, in order to avoid
suspicion ; but he managed to impart a fair degree of information each
time information delivered in a low voice, for Hendon's benefit, and
'' INFORMATION DELITEEED IN A LOW VOICE."
interlarded with insulting epithets delivered in a louder voice, for the
benefit of other hearers.
So, little by little, the story of the family came out. Arthur had
been dead six years. This loss, with the absence of news from Hendon,
impaired the father's health ; he believed he was going to die, and he
wished to see Hugh and Edith settled in life before he passed away ;
but Edith begged hard for delay, hoping for Miles's return ; then the
letter came which brought the news of Miles's death ; the shock pros-
trated Sir Richard ; he believed his end was very near, and he and
304 IN PRISON.
Hugh insisted upon the marriage ; Edith begged for and obtained a
month's respite ; then another, and finally a third ; the marriage then
took place, by the death-bed of Sir Richard. It had not proved a
happy one. It was whispered about the country that shortly after
the nuptials the bride found among her husband's papers several rough
and incomplete drafts of the fatal letter, and had accused him of pre-
cipitating the marriage and Sir Richard's death, too by a wicked
forgery. Tales of cruelty to the Lady Edith and the servants were to
be heard on all hands ; and since the father's death Sir Hugh had
thrown off all soft disguises and become a pitiless master toward all
who in any way depended upon him and his domains for bread.
There was a bit of Andrews's gossip which the King listened to
with a lively interest
" There is rumour that the King is mad. But in charity forbear
to say / mentioned it, for 'tis death to speak of it, they say."
His Majesty glared at the old man and said
" The King is not mad, good man and thou'lt find it to thy
advantage to busy thyself with matters that nearer concern thee than
this seditious prattle."
" What doth the lad mean ? ' ' said Andrews, surprised at this brisk
assault from such an unexpected quarter. Hendon gave him a sign,,
and he did not pursue his question, but went on with his budget
" The late King is to be buried at Windsor in a day or two
the 16th of the month, and the new King will be crowned at West-
minster the 2Qth."
" Methinks they must needs find him first," muttered his Ma-
jesty ; then added, confidently, " but they will look to that and so also
shall I."
" In the name of "
But the old man got no further a warning sign from Hendon
checked his remark. He resumed the thread of his gossip
" Sir Hugh goeth to the coronation and with grand hopes. He
confidently looketh to come back a peer, for he is high in favour with
the Lord Protector."
PRISON.
305
" What Lord Protector ? " asked his Majesty.
" His grace the Duke of Somerset."
" What Duke of Somerset ? "
" Marry, there is but one Seymour, Earl of Hertford."
The King asked, sharply
" Since when is he a duke, and Lord Protector ? "
" Since the last day of January."
" ' THE KING ! ' HE CRIED. ' WHAT
KING ? ' "
" And prithee who made him so ? '
" Himself and the Great Council with help of the King."
His Majesty started violently. " The King ! ' he cried. " What
king, good sir ? ' :
" What king, indeed ! (God-a-mercy, what aileth the boy ?) Sith
we have but one, 'tis not difficult to answer his most sacred Majesty
King Edward the Sixth whom God preserve ! Yea, and a dear and
gracious little urchin is he, too ; and whether he be mad or no and
x
306 IN PRISON.
they say he mendeth daily his praises are on all men's lips ; and all
bless him, likewise, and offer prayers that he may be spared to reign
long in England ; for he began humanely, with saving the old Duke of
Norfolk's life, and now is he bent on destroying the cruellest of the
laws that harry and oppress the people."
This news struck his Majesty dumb with amazement, and plunged
him into so deep and dismal a reverie that he heard no more of the old
man's gossip. He wondered if the " little urchin " was the beggar-boy
whom he left dressed in his own garments in the palace. It did not
seem possible that this could be, for surely his manners and speech
would betray him if he pretended to be the Prince of "Wales then
he would be driven out, and search made for the true prince. Could
it be that the Court had set up some sprig of the nobility in his place ?
No, for his uncle would not allow that he was all-powerful and could
and would crush such a movement, of course. The boy's musings
profited him nothing ; the more he tried to unriddle the mystery the
more perplexed he became, the more his head ached, and the worse he
slept. His impatience to get to London grew hourly, and his captivity
became almost unendurable.
Hendon's arts all failed with the King he could not be comforted ;
but a couple of women who were chained near him succeeded better.
Under their gentle ministrations he found peace and learned a degree
of patience. He was very grateful, and came to love them dearly and
to delight in the sweet and soothing influence of their presence. He
asked them why they were in prison, and when they said they were
Baptists, he smiled, and inquired-
" Is that a crime to be shut up for, in a prison ? Now I grieve, for
I shall lose ye they will not keep ye long for such a little thing."
They did not answer; and something in their faces made him
uneasy. He said, eagerly
" You do not speak be good to me, and tell me there will be no
other punishment? Prithee tell me there is no fear of that."
They tried to change the topic, but his fears were aroused, and he
pursued it
PRISOX. 307
" Will they scourge thee ? No, no, they would not be so cruel !
Say they would not. Come, they will not, will they ? '
The women betrayed confusion and distress, but there was no
avoiding an answer, so one of them said, in a voice choked with
emotion
" Oh, thou'lt break our hearts, thou gentle spirit ! God will help us
to bear our "
" It is a confession ! '" the King broke in. " Then they will scourge
thee, the stony-hearted wretches ! But oh, thou must not weep, I can-
not bear it. Keep up thy courage I shall come to my own in time
to save thee from this bitter thing, and I will do it ! ' :
When the King awoke in the morning, the women were gone.
" They are saved ! ' he said, joyfully ; then added, despondently,
"but woe is me ! for they were my comforters."
Each of them had left a shred of ribbon pinned to his clothing, in
token of remembrance. He said he would keep these things always ;
and that soon he would seek out these dear good friends of his and
take them under his protection.
Just then the jailer came in with some subordinates and com-
manded that the prisoners be conducted to the jail-yard. The
King was overjoyed it would be a blessed thing to see the blue
sky and breathe the fresh air once more. He fretted and chafed at
the slowness of the officers, but his turn came at last, and he was
released from his staple and ordered to follow the other prisoners, with
Hendon.
The court or quadrangle was stone-paved, and open to the sky.
The prisoners entered it through a massive archway of masonry, and
were placed in file, standing, with their backs against the wall. A
rope was stretched in front of them, and they were also guarded by
their officers. It was a chill and lowering morning, and a light snow
which had fallen during the night whitened the great empty space
and added to the general dismalness of its aspect. Now and then a
wintry wind shivered through the place and sent the snow eddying
hither and thither.
x2
808
IN PRISON.
In the centre of the court stood two women, chained to posts. A
glance showed the King that these were his good friends. He shud-
dered, and said to himself, " Alack, they are not gone free, as I had
thought. To think that such as these should know the lash ! in
England ! Ay, there's the shame of it not in Heathenesse, but
Christian England! They
will be scourged ; and I,
whom they have comfor-
ted and kindly entreated,
tf
must look on and see the
great wrong done ; it is
strange, so strange ! that
I, the very source of power
in this broad realm, am
helpless to protect them.
But let these miscreants
look well to themselves,
for there is a day coming
when I will require of
them a heavy reckoning
for this work. For every
blow they strike now, they
shall feel a hundred
then."
A great gate swung
open,
and a crowd of
'TWO WOMEN CHAINED TO POSTS.
citizens poured in. They
flocked around the two
women, and hid them
from the King's view. A clergyman entered and passed through the
crowd, and he also was hidden. The King now heard talking, back and
forth, as if questions were being asked and answered, but he could not
make out what was said. Next there was a deal of bustle and
preparation, and much passing and repassing of officials through that
7.V. PRISON. 309
part of the crowd that stood on the further side of the women ; and
whilst this proceeded a deep hush gradually fell upon the people.
Now, by command, the masses parted and fell aside, and the King
saw a spectacle that froze the marrow in his bones. Faggots had
been piled about the two women, and a kneeling man was lighting
them !
The women bowed their heads, and covered their faces with their
hands ; the yellow flames began to climb upward among the snapping
and crackling faggots, and wreaths of blue smoke to stream away on
the wind ; the clergyman lifted his hands and began a prayer just
then two young girls came flying through the great gate, uttering
piercing screams, and threw themselves upon the women at the stake.
Instantly they were torn away by the officers, and one of them was
kept in a tight grip, but the other broke loose, saying she would die
with her mother ; and before she could be stopped she had flung her
arms about her mother's neck again. She was torn away once more,
and with her gown on fire. Two or three men held her, and the
burning portion of her gown was snatched off and thrown flaming
aside, she struggling all the while to free herself, and saying she would
be alone in the world, now ; and begging to be allowed to die with
her mother. Both the girls screamed continually, and fought for
freedom ; but suddenly this tumult was drowned under a volley of
heart-piercing shrieks of mortal agony, the King glanced from the
frantic girls to the stake, then turned away and leaned his ashen face
against the wall, and looked no more. He said, " That which I have
seen, in that one little moment, will never go out from my memory,
but will abide there ; and I shall see it all the days, and dream of it
all the nights, till I die. Would God I had been blind ! "
Hendon was watching the King. He said to himself, with satisfac-
tion, "His disorder mendeth ; he hath changed, and groweth gentler.
If he had followed his wont, he would have stormed at these varlets,
and said he was King, and commanded that the women be turned loose
unscathed. Soon his delusion will pass away and be forgotten, and
his poor mind will be whole again. God speed the day ! ' :
310
IN PRISON.
That same day several prisoners were brought in to remain over
night, who were being conveyed, under guard, to various places in the
kingdom, to undergo punishment for crimes committed. The King
conversed with these, he had made it a point, from the beginning, to
" TORN AWAY BY THE OFFICERS.'
instruct himself for the kingly office by questioning prisoners whenever
the opportunity offered and the tale of their woes wrung his heart.
One of them was a poor half-witted woman who had stolen a yard or
two of cloth from a weaver she was to be hanged for it. Another
J.V PHISOX.
311
was a man who had been accused of stealing a horse ; he said the proof
had failed, and he had imagined that he was safe from the halter ; but
no he was hardly free before he was arraigned for killing a deer in
the King's park ; this was proved against him, and now he was on his
way to the gallows. There
was a tradesman's appren-
tice whose case particularly
distressed the King ; this
youth said he found a
hawk, one evening, that
had escaped from its owner,
and he took it home with
him, imagining himself en-
titled to it ; but the court
convicted him of stealing
it, and sentenced him to
death.
The King was furious
over these inhumanities,
and wanted Hen don to
break jail and fly with him
to Westminster, so that he
could mount his throne
and hold out his sceptre
in mercy over these un-
fortunate people and save
their lives. " Poor child,"
sighed Hendon, " these
woful tales have brought his malady upon him again alack, but for
this evil hap, he would have been well in a little time."
Among these prisoners was an old lawyer a man with a strong
face and a dauntless mien. Three years past, he had written a pam-
phlet against the Lord Chancellor, accusing him of injustice, and had
been punished for it by the loss of his ears in the pillory, and degrada-
" THE KING WAS FURIOUS."
312 IN PRISON.
tion from the bar, and in addition had been fined 3,0007. and sentenced
to imprisonment for life. Lately he had repeated his offence ; and in
consequence was now under sentence to lose what remained of his ears,
pay a fine of 5,000/., be branded on both cheeks, and remain in prison
for life.
" These be honourable scars," he said, and turned back his grey
hair and showed the mutilated stubs of what had once been his ears.
The King's eye burned with passion. He said
" None believe in me neither wilt thou. But no matter within
the compass of a month thou shalt be free ; and more, the laws that
have dishonoured thee, and shamed the English name, shall be swept
from the statute books. The world is made wrong ; kings should go
to school to their own laws, at times, and so learn mercy." l
1 See Notes to Chapter XXVII., at end of volume.
*
SACRIFICE
315
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE SACRIFICE.
MEANTIME Miles was growing sufficiently tired of confinement and
inaction. But now his trial came on, to his great gratification, and he
thought he could welcome any sentence provided a further imprison-
ment should not be a part of it. But he was mistaken about that. He
was in a fine fury w r hcn he found himself described as a " sturdy vaga-
bond" and sentenced to sit two hours in the pillory for bearing that
character and for assaulting the master of Hendon Hall. His preten-
sions as to brothership with his prosecutor, and rightful heirship to the
Hendon honours and estates, were left contemptuously unnoticed, as
being not even worth examination.
He raged and threatened, on his way to punishment, but it did no
good ; he was snatched roughly along by the officers, and got an occa-
sional cuff, besides, for his irreverent conduct.
The King could not pierce through the rabble that swarmed behind ;
so he was obliged to follow in the rear, remote from his good friend
and servant. The King had been nearly condemned to the stocks
himself for being in such bad company, but had been let off with a
lecture and a warning, in consideration of his youth. When the crowd
at last halted, he flitted feverishly from point to point around its outer
rim, hunting a place to get through ; and at last, after a deal of diffi-
culty and delay, succeeded. There sat his poor henchman in the
degrading stocks, the sport and butt of a dirty mob he, the body
316
THE SACRIFICE.
servant of the King of England ! Edward had heard the sentence
pronounced, but he had not realised the half that it meant. His anger
began to rise as the sense of this new indignity which had been put
upon him sank home ; it jumped to summer heat, the next moment,
when he saw an egg sail through the air and crush itself against
Hendon's cheek, and heard the crowd roar its enjoyment of the episode.
HE CONFRONTED THE OFFICER
IN CHARGE."
L i
He sprang across the open circle and confronted the officer in charge,
crying
" For shame ! This is my servant set him free ! I am the "
" Oh, peace ! "' exclaimed Hendon, in a panic, " thou'lt destroy
thyself. Mind him not, officer, he is mad."
" Give thyself no trouble as to the matter of minding him, good
man, I have small mind to mind him ;' but as to teaching him some-
THE SACRIFICE. 317
what, to that I am well inclined." He turned to a subordinate and
said, " Give the little fool a taste or two of the lash, to mend his
manners."
"Half a dozen will better serve his turn," suggested Sir Hugh,
who had ridden up, a moment before, to take a passing glance at the
proceedings.
The King was seized. He did not even struggle, so paralysed was
he with the mere thought of the monstrous outrage that was proposed
to be inflicted upon his sacred person. History was already defiled
with the record of the scourging of an English King with whips it
was an intolerable reflection that he must furnish a duplicate of that
shameful page. He was in the toils, there was no help for him : he
must either take this punishment or beg for its remission. Hard
conditions ; he would take the stripes a king might do that, but a
king could not beg.
But meantime, Miles Hendon was resolving the difficulty. " Let
the child go," said he ; " ye heartless dogs, do ye not see how young
and frail he is? Let him go I will take his lashes."
" Marry, a good thought, and thanks for it," said Sir Hugh, his
face lighting with a sardonic satisfaction. " Let the little beggar go,
and give this fellow a dozen in his place an honest dozen, well laid
on." The King was in the act of entering a fierce protest, but Sir
Hugh silenced him with the potent remark, ' ; Yes, speak up, do, and
free thy mind only, mark ye, that for each word you utter he shall
get six strokes the more."
Hendon was removed from the stocks, and his back laid bare ; and
whilst the lash was applied the poor little King turned away his face
and allowed unroyal tears to channel his cheeks unchecked. " Ah,
brave good heart," he said to himself, "this loyal deed shall never
perish out of my memory. I will not forget it and neither shall
they \ " he added, with passion. Whilst he mused, his appreciation of
Hendon's magnanimous conduct grew to greater and still greater dimen-
sions in his mind, and so also did his gratefulness for it. Presently he
said to himself, " Who saves 4 his prince from wounds and possible
318
THE SACRIFICE.
death and this he did for me performs high service ; but it is little
it is nothing 1 oh, less than nothing ! when 'tis weighed against
the act of him who saves his prince from SHAME ! '
Hendon made no outcry under the scourge, but bore the heavy
WHILE THE LASH WAS APPLIED, THE POOR
KING TURNED AWAY HIS FACE."
blows with soldierly fortitude. This, together with his redeeming the
boy by taking his stripes for him, compelled the respect of even that
forlorn and degraded mob that was gathered there ; and its gibes and
hootings died away, and no sound remained but the sound of the falling
blows The stillness that pervaded the place, when Hendon found him-
THE SACRIFICE.
319
self once more in the stocks, was in strong contrast with the insulting
clamour which had prevailed there so little a while before. The
King came softly to Hendon's side, and whispered in his ear
" Kings cannot ennoble thee, thou good, great soul, for One who is
higher than kings hath done that for thee ; but a king can confirm thy
nobility to men." He picked up the scourge from the ground, touched
v;
"SIB HUGH SPHERED AWAY."
Hendon's bleeding shoul-
^ Ug^y with it, and
whispered, " Edward of
England dubs thee Earl ! "
Hendon was touched. The water welled to his eyes, yet at the same
time the grisly humour of the situation and circumstances so under-
mined his gravity that it was all he could do to keep some sign of his
inward mirth from showing outside. To be suddenly hoisted, naked
and gory, from the common stocks to the Alpine altitude and splendour
of an Earldom, seemed to him the last possibility in the line of the
grotesque. He said to himself, " Now am I finely tinselled, indeed !
320 THE SACRIFICE.
The spectre-knight of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows is become-
a spectre-earl ! a dizzy flight for a callow wing ! An' this go on, I
shall presently be hung like a very may- pole with fantastic gauds and
make-believe honours. But I shall value them, all valueless as they
are, for the love that doth bestow them. Better these poor mock
dignities of mine, that come unasked, from a clean hand and a right
spirit, than real ones bought by servility from grudging and interested
power."
The dreaded Sir Hugh wheeled his horse about, and as he spurred
away, the living wall divided silently to let him pass, and as silently
closed together again. And so remained ; nobody went so far as to
venture a remark in favour of the prisoner, or in compliment to him ;
but no matter, the absence of abuse was a sufficient homage in itself.
A late comer who was not posted as to the present circumstances, and
who delivered a sneer at the " impostor," and was in the act of fol-
lowing it with a dead cat, was promptly knocked down and kicked
out, without any words, and then the deep quiet resumed sway once
more.
323
CHAPTER XXIX.
TO LONDON.
WHEN Hendon's term of service in the stocks was finished, he was
released and ordered to quit the region and come back no more. His
sword was restored to him, and also his mule and his donkey. He
mounted and rode off, followed by the King, the crowd opening with
quiet respectfulness to let them pass, and then dispersing when they
were gone.
Hendon was soon absorbed in thought. There were questions of
high import to be answered. What should he do ? Whither should
he go ? Powerful help must be found, somewhere, or he must relin-
quish his inheritance and remain under the imputation of being an
impostor besides. Where could he hope to find this powerful help ?
Where, indeed ! It was a knotty question. By and by a thought
occurred to him which- pointed to a possibility the slenderest of
slender possibilities, certainly, but still worth considering, for lack of
any other that promised anything at all. He remembered what old
Andrews had said about the young King's goodness and his generous
championship of the wronged and unfortunate. Why not go and try
to get speech of him and beg for justice ? Ah, yes, but could so fan-
tastic a pauper get admission to the august presence of a monarch ?
Never mind let that matter take care of itself; it was a bridge that
would not need to be crossed till he should come to it. He was an
old campaigner, and used to inventing shifts and expedients : no doubt
Y2
324
TO LONDOX.
he would be able to find a way. Yes, he would strike for the capital.
Maybe his father's old friend Sir Humphrey Marlow would help him-
" good old Sir Humphrey, Head Lieutenant of the late King's kitchen,
or stables, or something" -Miles could not remember just what or which.
Now that he had
(something to turn
his energies to, a
distinctly defined
object to accom-
plish, the fog of
humiliation and de-
"HENDON MOUNTED AND EODE OFF WITH THE KING."
pression which had settled down upon his spirits lifted and blew away,
and he raised his head and looked about him. He was surprised to
aee how far he had come ; the village was away behind him. The King
was jogging along in his wake, with his head bowed for he, too, was
TO LONDON.
325
deep in plans and thinkings. A sorrowful misgiving clouded Hendon's
new-born cheerfulness : would the boy be willing to go again to a city
where, during all his brief life, he had never known anything but ill-
usage and pinching want ? But the question must be asked ; it could
not be avoided; so Hendon reined up, and called out
" IN THE MIDST OF A JAM OF HOWLING PEOPLE.
" I had forgotten to inquire whither we are bound. Thy commands,
my liege ! ''
" To London ! "
Hendon moved on again, mightily contented with the answer but
astounded at it, too.
The whole journey was made without an adventure of importance.
326 TO LONDON.
But it ended with one. About ten o'clock on the night of the 19th of
February, they stepped upon London Bridge, in the midst of a writh-
ing, struggling jam of howling and hurrahing people, whose beer-jolly
faces stood out strongly in the glare from manifold torches and at that
instant the decaying head of some former duke or other grandee tumbled
down between them, striking II* :idon on the elbow and then bounding
off among the hurrying confusion of feet. So evane-o-nt and unstable
are men's works, in this world ! the late good King i> but three weeks
dead and three days in his grave, and already the adornments which
he took such pains to select from prominent people for his noble bridge
are falling. A cilixen stumbled over that . and drove his own
head into the l.;ick of somcbo.lv in front of him, who turned and
knocked down the lir.-t p. rson that came handv, and was promptly laid
out himself by that person's friend. It was the right ripe time for a
free liirhr, for the festivities of the morrow Coronation Day were
already beginning; everybody was full of .-trong drink and patriotism;
within live minutes the free fight was occupying a good deal of ground;
within ten or twelve it covered an acre or BO, and was become a riot.
]>y thi> time Jbndoii and the Kin_rv. MI- h -lv separated from
each other and lost in the rash and turmoil of the roaring masses of
humanity. And so we leave them.
329
CHAPTER XXX.
TOM'S PROGRESS.
WHILST the true King wandered about the land poorly clad, poorly fed,
cuffed and derided by tramps one while, herding with thieves and mur-
derers in a jail another, and called idiot and impostor by all impartially,
the mock King Tom Canty enjoyed quite a different experience:
When we saw him last, royalty was just beginning to have a bright
side for him. This bright side went on brightening more and more
every day : in a very little while it was become almost all sunshine
and delightfulness. He lost his fears ; his misgivings faded out and
died ; his embarrassments departed, and gave place to an easy and con-
fident bearing. He Avorked the whipping-boy mine to ever-increasing
profit.
He ordered my Lady Elizabeth and my Lady Jane Grey into his
presence when he wanted to play or talk, and dismissed them when he
was done with them, with the air of one familiarly accustomed to such
performances. It no longer confused him to have these lofty personages
kiss his hand at parting.
He came to enjoy being conducted to bed in state at night, and
dressed with intricate and solemn ceremony in the morning. It came
to be a proud pleasure to march to dinner attended by a glittering pro-
cession of officers of state and gentlemen-at-arms ; insomuch, indeed,
that he doubled his guard of gentlemen-at-arrns, and made them a
hundred. He liked to hear the bugles sounding down the long corri-
dors, and the distant voices responding, "Way for the King ! "
330
TOM'S PROGRESS.
He even learned to enjoy sitting in throned state in council, and
seeming to be something more than the Lord Protector's mouthpiece.
He liked to receive great ambassadors and their gorgeous trains, and
listen to the affectionate messages they brought from illustrious mon-
archs who called him " V>rother." happy Tom Canty, late of Offal
Court !
' TO KISS HIS HAND AT PAHTING.
He enjoyed his splendid clothes, and ordered more : he found his
four hundred servants too few for his proper grandeur, and trebled
them. The adulation of salaaming courtiers came to be sweet music
to his ears. He remained kind and gentle, and a sturdy and deter-
mined champion of all that were oppressed, and he made tireless war
upon unjust laws : yet upon occasion, being offended, he could turn
upon an earl, or even a duke, and give him a look that would make
him tremble. Once, when his royal " sister," the grimly holy Lady
Mary, set herself to reason with him against the wisdom of his course
TO ITS PROGRESS.
331
in pardoning so many people who would otherwise be jailed, or hanged,
or burned, and reminded him that their august late father's prisons had
sometimes contained as high as sixty thousand convicts at one time
and that during his admirable reign he had delivered seventy-two thou-
sand thieves and robbers over to death by the executioner, 1 the boy was-
"COMMANDED HEB TO oo TO HEB, CLOSET.
filled with generous indignation, and commanded her to go to her closet,
and beseech God to take away the stone that was in her breast, and
give her a human heart.
Did Tom Canty never feel troubled about the poor little rightful
prince who had treated him so kindly, and flown out with such hot
zeal to avenge him upon the insolent sentinel at the palace-gate ?
1 Hume's England.
332 TOM'S PRO GRESS.
Yes; his first royal days and nights were pretty well sprinkled with
painful thoughts about the lost prince, and with sincere longings for
his return, and happy restoration to his native rights and splendours.
But as time wore on, and the prince did not come, Tom's mind became
more and more occupied with his new and enchanting experiences, and
by little and little the vanished monarch faded almost out of his
thoughts ; and finally, when he did intrude upon them at intervals,
he was become an unwelcome spectre, for he made Tom feel guilty and
ashamed.
Tom's poor mother and sisters travelled the same road out of his
mind. At first he pined for them, sorro\vc d for them, longed to see
them, but later, the thought of their comintr some clay in their ra^s
j
and dirt, and betraying him with their kisses, and pulling him down
from his lofty place, and dragging him back to penury and degradation
and the slum-, made him shudder. At last they ceased to trouble his
tliMiL-lits almost wholly. And he was content, even glad : for, when-
ever their mournful and accusing laces did rise before him now, they
made him feel more despicable than the worms that crawl.
At midnight of the 19th of February, Tom Canty was sinking to
sleep in his rich bed in the palace, guarded by hia loyal vassals, and
-urrounded by the pomps of royalty, a happy boy ; for to-morrow
was the day appointed for his solemn crowning as King of England.
At that same hour, Edward, the true king, hungry and thirsty, soiled
and draggled, worn with travel, and clothed in rags and shreds, his
share of the results of the riot, was wedged in among a crowd of
people who were watching with deep interest certain hurrying gangs
of workmen who streamed in and out of Westminster Abbey, busy as
ants : they were making the last preparation for the royal coronation.
335
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION.
WHEN Tom Canty awoke the next morning, the air was heavy with a
thunderous murmur : all the distances were charged with it. It was
music to him ; for it meant that the
English world was out in its strength
to give loyal welcome to the great day.
Presently Tom found himself
once more the chief figure in a won-
derful floating pageant on the Thames;
for by ancient custom the " recognition
procession " through
THE STAET FOB THE TOWER.
London must start
from the Tower,
and he was bound
thither.
336 THE RECOGNITION PROCESSI01.
When he arrived there, the sides of the venerable fortress seemed
suddenly rent in a thousand places, and from every rent leaped a red
tongue of flame and a white gush of smoke ; a deafening explosion
followed, which drowned the shoutings of the multitude, and made the
ground tremble ; the flame-jots, the smoke, and the explosions, were
repeated over and over again with marvellous celerity, so that in a few
moments the old Tower disappeared in the vast fog of its own smoke,
all but the very top of the tall pile called the White Tower; this, with
its banners, stood out above the dense bank of vapour as a mountain-
peak projects above a cloud-rack.
Tom Canty, splendidly arrayed, mounted a prancing war-steed,
whose rich trappings almost reached io the ground: his "uncle," the
Lord Protect. .r Somerset, similarly mounted, took place in his rear;
the King's Guard formed in HinJc ranks on either side, clad in bur-
nished armour : after the Protector followed a seemingly interminable
procession of resplendent nobles . 1 by their vassals; after these
came the lord mayor and the aldermanic hodv, in crimson velvet robes,
and with their gold chains across their breasts; and after these the
officers niid members of all the guilds of London, in rich raiment, and
bearing the showy banners of tip rporations. Also in the
procession, as a special guard of honour through the city, was the
Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company. an organisation already
three hundr< d years old at that time, and the only military body in
England possessing the privilege (which it still possesses in our day)
of holding itself independent of the commands of Parliament. It
was a brilliant spectacle, and was hailed with acclamations all along
the line, as it took its stately way through the packed multitudes of
citizens. The chronicler says, " The King, as he entered the city, was
received by the people with prayers, welcomings, cries, and tender
words, and all signs which argue an earnest love of subjects toward
their sovereign ; and the King, by holding up his glad countenance to
such as stood afar off, and most tender language to those that stood
nigh his Grace, showed himself no less thankful to receive the people's
goodwill than they to offer it. To all that wished him well, he gave
THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION.
337
thanks. To such as bade ' God save his Grace,' he said in return, * God
save you all! ' and added that 'he thanked them with all his heart.'
Wonderfully transported were the people with the loving answers
and gestures of their King."
In Fenchurch Street a " fair
child, in costly apparel," stood on
a stage to welcome his Majesty to
the city. The last verse of his
greeting was in these words :
" Welcome, King ! as much as hearts
can think ;
Welcome, again, as much as tongue
can tell,
Welcome to joyous tongues, and hearts
that will not shrink :
God thee preserve, we pray, and wish
thee ever well."
The people burst forth in a
glad shout, repeating with one
voice what the child had said.
Tom Canty gazed abroad over
the surging sea of eager faces, and
his heart swelled with exultation ;
and he felt that the one thing
worth living for in this world was
to be a king, and a nation's idol.
Presently he caught sight, at a
distance, of a couple of his ragged
Offal Court comrades, one of
them the lord high admiral in his
late mimic court, the other the first lord of the bedchamber in the
same pretentious fiction ; and his pride swelled higher than ever.
Oh, if they could only recognise him now ! What unspeakable glory
it would be, if they could recognise him, and realise that the derided
mock king of the slums and back alleys was become a real King, with
z
" WELCOME, O KIXG ! "
333
THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION.
illustrious dukes and princes for his humble jnenials, and the English
world at his feet ! But he had to deny himself, and choke down his
desire, for such a recognition might cost more than
it would come to : so he turned a\vay his head, and
left the two soiled lads to go on with their shoutings
and glad adulations, unsuspicious of whom it was
they were lavish-
ing them upon.
now
p
and then rose the
cry, " A largess !
a largess ! ' and
Tom responded by
scattering a hand-
ful of bright new
coins abroad for
the multitude to
~- *-
88 ! A LABGESS!' scramble for.
The chronicler says, " At the upper end of Gracechurch Street,
Till: RECOGNITION PROCESSION. 339
before the sign of the Eagle, the city had erected a gorgeous arch,
beneath which was a stage, which stretched from one side of the street
to the other. This was an historical pageant, representing the King's
immediate progenitors. There sat Elizabeth of York in the midst of
an immense white rose, whose petals formed elaborate furbelows
around her ; by her side was Henry VIL, issuing out of a vast red
rose, disposed in the same manner : the hands of the royal pair were
locked together, and the wedding-ring ostentatiously displayed. From
the red and white roses proceeded a stem, which reached up to a
second stage, occupied by Henry VIII. , issuing from a red-and-white
rose, with the effigy of the new King's mother, Jane Seymour, repre-
sented by his side. One branch sprang from this pair, which mounted
to a third stage, where sat the effigy of Edward VI. himself, enthroned
in royal majesty ; and the whole pageant was framed with wreaths of
roses, red and white."
This quaint and gaudy spectacle so wrought upon the rejoicing
people, that their acclamations utterly smothered the small voice of
the child whose business it was to explain the thing in eulogistic
rhymes. But Tom Canty was not sorry ; for this loyal uproar was
sweeter music to him than any poetry, no matter what its quality
might be. Whithersoever Tom turned his happy young face, the
people recognised the exactness of his effigy's likeness to himself, the
flesh and blood counterpart ; and new whirlwinds of applause burst forth.
The great pageant moved on, and still on, under one triumphal
arch after another, and past a bewildering succession of spectacular and
symbolical tableaux, each of which typified and exalted some virtue, or
talent, or merit, of the little King's. " Throughout the whole of Cheap,
side, from every penthouse and window, hung banners and streamers ;
and the richest carpets, stuffs, and cloth-of-gold tapestried the streets. -
specimens of the great wealth of the stores within ; and the splendour
of this thoroughfare, was equalled in the other streets, and in some even
surpassed."
"And all these wonders and these marvels are to welcome me
me ! " murmured Tom Canty.
z2
340
THE
PROCESSION,
The mock King's cheeks were flushed with excitement, his eyes
were flashing, his senses swam in a delirium of pleasure. At this
Mil- WAS AT HIS S1DK.
point, just as he was raising his hand to fling
another rich largess, he caught sight of a pale,
astounded face, which was strained forward
out of the second rank of the crowd, its intense
eyes riveted upon him. A sickening con-
sternation struck through him ; he recognised his mother ! and up
flew his hand, palm outward, before his eyes, that old involuntary
gesture, born of a forgotten episode, and perpetuated by habit. In
THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION. 341
an instant more she had torn her way out of the press, and past the
guards, and was at his side. She embraced his leg, she covered it with
kisses, she cried, " O my child, my darling ! ' ' lifting toward him a
face that was transfigured with joy and love. The same instant an
officer of the King's Guard snatched her away with a curse, and sent
her reeling back whence she came with a vigorous impulse from his
strong arm. The words " I do not know you, woman ! "' were falling
from Tom Canty's lips when this piteous thing occurred ; but it smote
him to the heart to see her treated so ; and as she turned for a last
glimpse of him, whilst the crowd was swallowing her from his sight,
she seemed so wounded, so broken-hearted, that a shame fell upon him
which consumed his pride to ashes, and withered his stolen royalty.
His grandeurs were stricken valueless : they seemed to fall away from
him like rotten rags.
The procession moved on, and still on, through ever augmenting
splendours and ever augmenting tempests of welcome ; but to Tom
Canty they were as if they had not been. He neither saw nor heard.
Royalty had lost its grace and sweetness ; its pomps were become a
reproach. Remorse was eating his heart out. He said, " Would God
I were free of my captivity ! '
He had unconsciously dropped back into the phraseology o the
first days of his compulsory greatness.
The shining pageant still went winding like a radiant and intermin-
able serpent down the crooked lanes of the quaint old city, and through
the huzzaing hosts ; but still the King rode with bowed head and vacant
eyes, seeing only his mother's face and that wounded look in it.
" Largess, largess ! " The cry fell upon an unheeding ear.
" Long live Edward of England ! ' : It seemed as if the earth
shook with the explosion ; but there was no response from the King.
He heard it only as one hears the thunder of the surf when it is blown
to the ear out of a great distance, for it was smothered under another
.sound which was still nearer, in his own breast, in his accusing con-
science, a voice which kept repeating those shameful words, " I do not
know you, woman ! "
342
THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION.
The words smote upon the King's soul as the strokes of a funeral
bell smite upon the soul of a surviving friend when they remind him
of secret treacheries suffered at his hands by him that is gone.
New glories were unfolded at every turning ; new wonders, new
marvels, sprang into view ; the pent clamours of waiting batteries were
released ; new raptures poured from the throats of the waiting mul-
'MY I.IECJK, IT IS AN ILL TIME FOR DREAMING.
titudes : but the King gave no sign, and the accusing voice that
went moaning through his comfortless breast was all the sound he
o ^
heard.
By and by the gladness in the faces of the populace changed a
little, and became touched with a something like solicitude or anxiety r
an abatement in the volume of the applause was observable too. The
Lord Protector was quick to notice these things : he was as quick to
detect the cause. He spurred to the King's side, bent low in his saddle,
uncovered, and said
THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION.
343
" My liege, it is an ill time for dreaming. The people observe thy
downcast head, thy clouded mien, and they take it for an omen. Be
advised : unveil the sun of royalty, and let it shine upon these boding
vapours, and disperse them. Lift up thy face, and smile upon the
people."
" SHE WAS MY MOTHER."
So saying, the Duke scattered a handful of
coins to right and left, then retired to his place'
The mock King did mechanically as he had been
bidden. His smile had no heart in it, but few
eyes were near enough or sharp enough to detect
that. The noddings of his plumed head as he
saluted his subjects were full of grace and gracious-
^ ness ; the largess whicli he delivered from his
hand was royally liberal : so the people's anxiety
vanished, and the acclamations burst forth again in as mighty a
volume as before.
Still once more, a little before the progress was ended, the Duke was
obliged to ride forward, and make remonstrance. He whispered
O dread sovereign ! shake off these fatal humours ; the eyes of the
344 THE RECOGNITION PROCESSION]
world are upon thee." Then he added with sharp annoyance, " Per-
dition catch that crazy pauper ! 'twas she that hath disturbed your
Highness."
The gorgeous figure turned a lustreless eye upon the Duke, arid said
in a dead voice
" She was my mother ! '
" My God ! '' Lrroaned the Protector as he reined his horse back-
ward to his post, " the omen was pr.^nant with prophecy. lie is gone
mad aorain ! "
347
CHAPTER XXXII.
CORONATION DAY.
LET us go backward a few hours, and place ourselves in Westminster
Abbey, at four o'clock in the morning of this memorable Coronation
Day. We are not without company ; for although it is still night,
we find the torch-lighted galleries already filling up with people who-
are well content to sit still and wait seven or eight hours till the time
shall come for them to see what they may not hope to see twice in
their lives the coronation of a King. Yes, London and Westminster
have been astir ever since the warning guns boomed at three o'clock,
and already crowds of untitled rich folk who have bought the privilege
of trying to find sitting-room in the galleries are flocking in at the
entrances reserved for their sort.
The hours drag along tediously enough. All stir has ceased for
some time, for every gallery has long ago been packed. We may sit,
now, and look and think at our leisure. We have glimpses, here and
there and yonder, through the dim cathedral twilight, of portions of
many galleries and balconies, wedged full with people, the other por-
tions of these galleries and balconies being cut off from sight by inter-
vening pillars and architectural projections. We have in view the
whole of the great north transept empty, and waiting for England's
privileged ones. We see also the ample area or platform, carpeted
with rich stuffs, whereon the throne stands. The throne occupies the
centre of the platform, and is raised above it upon an elevation of four
348
CO 11 ON ATI ON DAY.
steps. Within the seat of the throne is enclosed a rough flat rock
the stone of Scone which many generations of Scottish kings sat on
to be crowned, and so it in time became holy enough to answer a like
purpose for English monarchs. Both the throne and its footstool are
covered with cloth of gold.
Stillness reigns, the torches blink dully, the time drags heavily.
But at last the lagging daylight asserts itself, the torches are extin-
guished, and a mellow radiance <utFuses the great spnr.pg. All features
GATHERS UP THE LADv's LONG TRAIN.''
of the noble building are distinct now, but soft and dreamy, for the
sun is lightly veiled with clouds.
At seven o'clock the first break in the drowsy monotony occurs ;
for on the stroke of this hour the first peeress enters the transept,
clothed like Solomon for splendour, and is conducted to her appointed
place by an official clad in satins and velvets, whilst a duplicate of
him gathers up the lady's long train, follows after, and, when the lady
is seated, arranges the train across her lap for her. He then places
her footstool according to her desire, after which he puts her coronet
where it will be convenient to her hand when the time for the simul-
taneous coronetino: of the nobles shall arrive.
CORONATION DAY. 349
By this time the peeresses are flowing in in a glittering stream,
and the satin-clad officials are flitting and glinting everywhere, seating
them and making them comfortable. The scene is animated enough
o O
now. There is stir and life, and shifting colour everywhere. After a
time, quiet reigns again ; for the peeresses are all come, and are all
in their places, a solid acre, or such a matter, of human flowers,
resplendent in variegated colours, and frosted like a Milky Way with
diamonds. There are all ages here : brown, wrinkled, white-haired
dowagers who are able to go back, and still back, down the stream
of time, and recall the crowning of Richard III. and the troublous
days of that old forgotten age ; and there are handsome middle-aged
dames ; and lovely and gracious young matrons ; and gentle and
beautiful young girls, with beaming eyes and fresh complexions, who
may possibly put on their jewelled coronets awkwardly when the great
time comes ; for the matter will be new to them, and their excitement
will be a sore hindrance. Still, this may not happen, for the hair of
all these ladies has been arranged with a special view to the swift and
successful lodging of the crown in its place when the signal comes.
We have seen that this massed array of peeresses is sown thick
with diamonds, and we also see that it is a marvellous spectacle but
now we are about to be astonished in earnest. About nine, the clouds
suddenly break away and a shaft of sunshine cleaves the mellow-
atmosphere, and drifts slowly along the ranks of ladies; and every
rank it touches flames into a dazzling splendour of many-coloured fires,
and we tingle to our finger-tips with the electric thrill that is shot
through us by the surprise and the beauty of the spectacle ! Presently
a special envoy from some distant corner of the Orient, marching
with the general body of foreign ambassadors, crosses this bar of sun-
shine, and we catch our breath, the glory that streams and flashes and
palpitates about him is so overpowering ; for he is crusted from head
to heel with gems, and his slightest movement showers a dancing
radiance all around him.
Let us change the tense for convenience. The time drifted along,
one hour two hours two hours and a half ; then the deep boom-
350
COROXATIOX DAY.
.ing of artillery told that the King and his grand procession had arrived
at last ; so the waiting multitude rejoiced. All knew that a further
delay must follow,
for the King must
be prepared and
l',^< f- . - ^-Z" ~ X
' ii v <
y&U ; ;
i^yfi
robed for the solemn
ivremony ; but this
delay would be
pleasantly occupied
l>y the assembling
the peers of the
I realm in their stately
robes. These were
conducted ceremoni-
ously to their seats,
and their coronets
placed conveniently
at hand ; and mean-
while the multitude
in the galleries were
alive with interest,
for most of them
were beholding for
the first time, dukes,
earls, and barons,
whose names had
been historical for
five hundred years.
When all were finally
seated, the spectacle
from the galleries
and all coigns of
vantage was complete ; a gorgeous one to look upon and to remember.
Now the robed and mitred great heads of the church, and their
, ^
" TOM CANTY AFPBABED.
CORONATION DAT. 351
attendants, filed in upon the platform and took their appointed places ;
these were followed by the Lord Protector and other great officials,
and these again by a steel-clad detachment of the Guard.
There was a waiting pause ; then, at a signal, a triumphant peal of
music burst forth, and Tom Canty, clothed in a long robe of cloth of
gold, appeared at a door, and stepped upon the platform. The entire
multitude rose, and the ceremony of the Recognition ensued.
Then a noble anthem swept the Abbey with its rich waves of
sound ; and thus heralded and welcomed, Tom Canty was conducted
to the throne. The ancient ceremonies went on, with impressive
solemnity, whilst the audience gazed ; and as they drew nearer and
nearer to completion, Tom Canty grew pale, and still paler, and a
deep and steadily deepening woe and despondency settled down upon
his spirits and upon his remorseful heart.
At last the final act was at hand. The Archbishop of Canterbury
lifted up the crown of England from its cushion and held it out over
the trembling mock-king's head. In the same instant a rainbow-radi-
ance flas'lted along the spacious transept ; for with one impulse every
individual in the great concourse of nobles lifted a coronet and poised
it over his or her head, and paused in that attitude.
A deep hush pervaded the Abbey. At this impressive moment,
a startling apparition intruded upon the scene an apparition
observed by none in the absorbed multitude, until it suddenly
appeared, moving up the great central aisle. It was a boy, bare-
headed, ill shod, and clothed in coarse plebeian garments that 'were
falling to rags. He raised his hand with a solemnity which ill com-
ported with his soiled and sorry aspect, and delivered this note of
warning
" I forbid you to set the crown of England upon that forfeited
head. 1 am the King ! '
In an instant several indignant hands were laid upon the boy ;
but in the same instant Tom Canty, in his regal vestments, made a
swift step forward, and cried out in a ringing voice
" Loose him and forbear ! He is the King ! '
352 CORONATION DAT.
A sort of panic of astonishment swept the assemblage, and they
partly rose in their places and stared in a bewildered way at one
another and at the chief figures in this scene, like persons who
wondered whether they were awake and in their senses, or asleep
and dreaming. The Lord Protector was as amazed as the rest, but
quickly recovered himself, and exclaimed in a voice of authority
" Mind not his Majesty, his malady is upon him again seize the
vagabond ! *
He would have been ob-y.-.l. l>ut the mock-King stamped his foot
and cried out
" On your peril ! Touch him not. In- is the King ! '
The hands were withheld ; a paralysis fell upon the house ; no one
moved, no one spoke ; indeed, no one knew how to act or what to say,
in so strange and surprising an emergency. While all minds were
struggling to right themselves, the boy still moved steadily forward,
with high port and confident mien ; he had never halted from the
beginning; and while the tangled minds still floundered helplessly,
lie stepped upon the platform, and the mock-King ran with a glfld
face to meet him ; and fell on his knees before him and said-
" Oh, my lord the King, let poor Tom Canty be first to swear fealty
tothee, and say, ' Put on thy crown and enter into thine own again ! ' "
The Lord Protector's eye fell sternly upon the new-comer's face;
but straightway the sternness vanished away, and gave place to an
expression of wondering surprise. This thing happened also to the
other great officers. They glanced at each other, and retreated a
step by a common and unconscious impulse. The thought in each
mind was the same : " What a strange resemblance ! '
The Lord Protector reflected a moment or two in perplexity, then
he said, with grave respectfulness
" By your favour, sir, I desire to ask certain questions which "
" I will answer them, my lord."
The Puke asked him many questions about the Court, the late
King, the prince, the princesses, the boy answered them correctly
and without hesitating. He described the rooms of state in the
CORONATION DAY.
353
palace, the late King's apartments, and those of the Prince of
Wales.
It was strange ; it was wonderful ; yes, it was unaccountable
so all said that heard it. The tide was beginning to turn, and Tom
Canty's hopes to run high, when the Lord Protector shook his head
and said
" It is true it is most wonderful but it is no more than our lord
" AND FELL OX HIS KNEES BEFORE HIM.
the King likewise can do." This remark, and this reference to him-
self as still the King, saddened Torn Canty, and he felt his hopes
crumbling from under him. " These are not proofs" added the
Protector.
The tide was turning very fast now, very fast indeed but in
the wrong direction; it was leaving poor Tom Canty stranded on the
A A
354 CORONATION DAY.
throne, and sweeping the other out to sea. The Lord Protector com-
muned with himself shook his head the thought forced itself
upon him, " It is perilous to the State and to us all, to entertain so
fateful a riddle as this ; it could divide the nation and undermine the
throne." He turned and said-
" Sir Thomas, arrest this Xo, hold ! ' His face lighted, and he
confronted the ragged candidate with this (juestion
"Where lieth the Great Seal.' Answer me this truly, and the
riddle is unriddled; for only he that was Prince of Wales can so
answer ! On so trivial a thing hanir a throne and a dynasty ! '
It was a lucky thought, a happy thought. That it was so con-
sidered by the great officials was manifested by the silent applause
that shot from eye to eye around tin -ir circle in the form of bright
approving glances. Yes, none but the true prince could dissolve the
stubborn mystery of the vanished Great Seal this forlorn little
impostor had been taught his lesson well, but here his teachings must
fail, for his teacher himself could not answer that question ah, very
good, very good indeed ; now we shall be rid of this troublesome and
perilous business in short order! And so they nodded invisibly and.
smiled inwardly with satisfaction, and looked to see this foolish lad
stricken with a palsy of guilty confusion. How surprised they were r
then, to see nothing of the sort happen how they marvelled to hear
him answer up promptly, in a confident and untroubled voice, and say-
" There is nought in this riddle that is difficult." Then, without so
much as a by-your-leave to anybody, he turned and gave this command,
with the easy manner of one accustomed to doing such things: "My
Lord St. John, go you to my private cabinet in the palace for none
knoweth the place better than you and, close down to the floor, in
the left corner remotest from the door that opens from the ante-
chamber, you shall find in the wall a brazen nail-head ; press upon it
and a little jewel- closet will rly open which not even you do know of
no, nor any soul else, in all the world but me and the trusty artisan
that did contrive it for me. The first thing that falleth under your
eye will be the Great Seal fetch it hither."
CORONATION DAY.
355
All the company wondered at this speech, and wondered still more
to see the little mendicant pick out this } eer without hesitancy or
apparent fear of mistake, and call him by
name with such a placidly convincing air of
having known him all his life. The peer
was almost surprised into obeying. He / j
even made a movement as if to go, but
quickly recovered his tranquil attitude and
THE GKEAT SEAL FETCH
confessed his blunder with a blush. Tom Canty turned upon him and
said, sharply
A A 2
35G COR OX ATI OS DAY.
" TVhy dost tbou hesitate ? Hast not heard the King's command ?
Go ! "
The Lord St. John made a deep obeisance and it was observed
that it was a significantly cautious and non-committal one, it not being
delivered at either of the kings, but at the neutral ground about half
way between the two and took his leave.
Now began a movement of the gorgeous particles of that official
group which was slow, scarcely perceptible, and yet steady and persist-
3nt a movement such as is observed in a kaleidoscope that is turned
slowly, whereby the components of one splendid cluster fall away and
join themselves to another a movement which, little by little, in the
present case, dissolve;! the glittering crowd that stood about Tom
Canty and clustered it together again in the neighbourhood of the
new-comer. Tom Canty stood almost alone. Now ensued a brief
season of deep suspense and waiting during which even the few
faint-hearts still remaining near Tom Canty gradually scraped
together courage enough to glide, one by one, over to the majority.
So at last Tom Canty, in his royal robes and jewels, stood wholly
alone and isolated from the world, a conspicuous figure, occupying an
eloquent vacancy.
Now the Lord St. John was seen returning. As he advanced up the
mid-aisle the interest was BO intense that the low murmur of conversa-
tion in the great assemblage died out and was succeeded by a profound
hush, a breathless stillness, through which his footfalls pulsed with a
dull and distant sound. Every eye was fastened upon him as he moved
along. He reached the platform, paused a moment, then moved toward
Tom Canty with a deep obeisance, and said
" Sire, the Seal is not there ! 5:
A mob does not melt away from the presence of a plague- patient
with more haste than the band of pallid and terrified courtiers melted
away from the presence of the shabby little claimant of the Crown.
In a moment he stood all alone, without friend or supporter, a target
upon which was concentrated a bitter fire of scornful and angry looks.
The Lord Protector called out fiercely
CORONATION DAY.
357
u Cast the beggar into the street, and scourge him through the town
C O ' O ^j
-the paltry knave is worth no more consideration ! '
Officers of the guard sprang forward to obey, but Tom Canty waved
them off and said
" Back ! Whoso touches him perils his life ! "
The Lord Protector was perplexed in the last degree. He said to
the Lord St. John
" Searched you well? but it boots not to ask that. It doth seem
" S1KE, THE SEAL IS NOT THERE."
passing strange. Little things, trifles, slip out of one's ken, and one
does not think it matter for surprise ; but how so bulky a thing as the
Seal of England can vanish away and no man be able to get track of
it again a massy golden disk "
Tom Canty, with beaming eyes, sprang forward and shouted
" Hold, that is enough ! Was it round ? and thick? and had it
letters and devices graved upon it ? Yes ? Oh, now I know what this
Great Seal is that there's been such worry and pother about. An' ye
had described it to me, ye could have had it three weeks ago. Right
well I know where it lies ; but it was not I that put it there first."
" Who, then, my liege ? " asked the Lord Protector.
" He that stands there the rightful King of England. And he
358
CORONATION DAY.
shall tell you himself where it lies then you will believe he knew it
of his own knowledge. Bethink thee, my King spur thy memory-
it was the last, the very A/*/ thing thou didst that day before thou didst
ru-h forth from the palace, clothed in my rags, to punish the soldier
that insulted me."
A silence ensued, undisturbed by a movement or a whisper, and all
pyes wore tixod upon the new-comer, who stood, witli bent head and
KV74?
" BETHINK THEE, MY KING.
corrugated brow, groping in his memory among a thronging multitude
of valueless recollections for one single little elusive fact, which, found,
Avould seat him upon a throne unfound, would leave him as he was,
for good and all a pauper and an outcast. Moment after moment
passed the moments built themselves into minutes still the boy
struggled silently on, and gave no sign. But at last he heaved a sigh,
shook his head slowly, and said, with a trembling lip and in a de-
spondent voice
" I call the scene back all of it but the Seal hath no place in
COROXATIOX DAY 359
it." He paused, then looked up, and said with gentle dignity, " My
lords and gentlemen, i ye will rob your rightful sovereign of his own
for lack of this evidence which he is not able to furnish, I may not
stay ye, being powerless. But "
" Oh, folly, oh, madness, my King ! " cried Tom Canty, in a panic,
" wait ! think ! Do not give up ! the cause is not lost ! Nor shall
be, neither ! List to what I say follow every word I am going to
bring that morning back again, every hap just as it happened. We
talked I told you of my sisters, Nan and Bet ah, yes, you remem-
ber that; and about mine old grandam and the rough games of the
lads of Offal Court yes, you remember these things also ; very well,
follow me still, you shall recall everything. You gave me food and
drink, and did with princely courtesy send away the servants, so that
my low breeding might not shame me before them ah, yes, this also
you remember."
As Tom checked off his details, and the other boy nodded his head
in recognition of them, the great audience and the officials stared in
puzzled wonderment ; the tale sounded like true history, yet how
could this impossible conjunction between a prince and a beggar-boy
have come about ? Never was a company of people so perplexed, so
interested, and so stupefied, before.
" For a jest, my prince, we did exchange garments. Then we stood
before a mirror ; and so alike were we that both said it seemed as if
there had been no change made yes, you remember that. Then you
noticed that the soldier had hurt my hand look ! here it is, I cannot
yet even write with it, the fingers are so stiff. At this your Highness
sprang up, vowing vengeance upon that soldier, and ran towards the
door you passed a table that thing you call the Seal lay on that
table you snatched it up and looked eagerly about, as if for a place
to hide it your eye caught sight of "
" There, 'tis sufficient ! and the good God be thanked ! ' :> exclaimed
the ragged claimant, in a mighty excitement. " Go, my good St. John,
in an arm-piece of the Milanese armour that hangs on the wall,
thou'lt find the Seal ! "
360 CORONATION DAY.
" liight, my King ! right ! '" cried Tom Canty ; " now the sceptre
of England is thine own ; and it were better for him that would dis-
pute it that he had been born dumb ! Go, my Lord St. John, give thy
feet wings ! '
The whole assemblage was on its feet now, and well-nigh out of
its mind with uneasiness, apprehension, and consuming excitement. On
the floor and on the platform a deafening buzz of frantic conversation
burst forth, and for some time nobody kne\v anything or heard any-
thing or was interested in anything but what his neighbour was shout-
ing into his ear, or lie was shouting into his neighbour's ear. Time
nobody knew how much of it swept by unheeded and unnoted.
At last a sudden hush fell upon the house, and in the same moment
St. John appeared upon the platform, and he-Id the Great Seal aloft in
his hand. Then >urh a shout went up
" Long live the true King ! '
For five minutes the air quaked with shouts and the crash of
musical instruments, and was white with a storm of waving handker-
chief's; and through it all a ragged lad, the most conspicuous figure in
England, stood, Hushed and happy and proud, in the centre of the
spacious platform, with the great vassals of the kingdom kneeling
around him.
Then all rose, and Tom Canty cried out
"Now, O my King, take these regal garments back, and give poor
Tom, thy servant, his shreds and remnants again."
The Lord Protector spoke up
" Let the small varlet be stripped and flung into the Tower."
But the new King, the true King, said
" I will not have it so. But for him I had not got my crown
again none shall lay a hand upon him to harm him. And as for
thee, my good uncle, my Lord Protector, this conduct of thine is not
grateful toward this poor lad, for I hear he hath made thee a duke "
the Protector blushed " yet he was not a King ; wherefore, what is thy
fine title worth now? To-morrow you shall sue to me, through him,
for its confirmation, el&e no duke, but a simple earl, sJialt thou remain."
CORONATION DAY.
361
Under this rebuke, his grace the Duke of Somerset retired a little
from the front for the moment. The King turned to Tom, and said
kindly " My poor boy, how was it that you could remember where
I hid the Seal w]ien I could not remember it myself? '
" Ah, my King, that was easy, since I
used it divers days."
" Used it, yet could not explain
where it was ? "
' I did not
know it was
that they want-
ed. They did
not describe it,
your Majesty."
" Then how
used you it ? "
The red
-LONG LIVE THE TRUE KING I " blood began to
steal up into
Tom's cheeks, and he dropped his eyes and was silent.
" Speak up, good lad, and fear nothing," said the King. " How
used you the Great Seal of England ? "
302
CORONATION DAY.
Tom stammered a moment, in a pathetic contusion, then got it
out
" To crack nuts with ! *
Poor child, the avalanche of laughter that greeted this nearly
him off his feet. But if a doul>t remained in an mind that
TO ( HACK M' I'*- WITH.
T< in Canty wa~ not tin- Ki: ._ of England and familiar with the august
o
appur 1 ' !ty, t: v di-po-.-d of it utterly.
,M< antiim tl sumptuous r be had been removed from
Tom'- shoulders totlie King's, whose rau- were effectually hidden from
si<ihr und< -r it. Then the coronation ceremonies were resumed: the
7
true Kin_ p was anointed and the crown set upon his head, whilst
ea::nn thundered the n<'\v- to the citv, and all London seemed to rock
with npplause.
365
CHAPTER XXXIII.
EDWARD AS KING.
MILES HENDON was picturesque enough before he got into the riot on
London Bridge he was more so when he got out of it. He had but
little money when he got in, none at all when he got out. The pick-
pockets had stripped him of his last farthing.
But no matter, so he found his boy. Being a soldier, he did not
go at his task in a random way, but set to work, first of all, to arrange
his campaign.
What would the boy naturally do ? Where would he naturally
go ? Well argued Miles he would naturally go to his former haunts,
for that is the instinct of unsound minds, when homeless and forsaken,
as well as of sound ones. Whereabouts were his former haunts ? His
rags, taken together with the low villain who seemed to know him and
who even claimed to be his father, indicated that his home was in one
or another of the poorest and meanest districts of London. Would the
search for him be difficult, or long ? No, it was likely to be easy and
brief. He would not hunt for the boy, he would hunt for a crowd ; in
the centre of a big crowd or a little one, sooner or later, he should find
his poor little friend, sure ; and the mangy mob would be entertaining
itself with pestering and aggravating the boy, who would be proclaim-
ing himself King, as usual. Then Miles Hendon would cripple some
of those people, and carry off his little ward, and comfort and cheer
him with loving words, and the two would never be separated any more.
36G EDWARD AS KIXG.
So Miles started on his quest. Hour after hour he tramped
through back alleys and squalid streets, seeking groups and crowds,
and finding no end of them, but never any sign of the boy. This
!_ r n ntly surprised him. but did not discourage him. To his notion,
tin-re was nothing tin.- matter with his plan of campaign ; the only
miscalculation about it was that tin- campaign was becoming a lengthy
ono, whereas he had expected it to be >hort.
When daylight arrived, at la-t, ho had made many a mile, and
canvas--d many a m.wd. but tin- only result was that he was tolerably
tin-d, rather hungry, and vi-rv .II- wanted some breakfast, but
there Ava.- no way et it To ! . it did nr occur to him; as to
pawnii-j- lii- sword, he would a< toon have thought of parting with his
honour: he could some of his clothe yes, but one could as
ea-ily find a I ':icr \'r a di~ the?.
At DOOD In- wa> still tramping amoiiir the rabble which followed
after the royal ; . ; for he arjin-d that this regal display
would atl his litth- lunatic pow.-rtullv. !! followed the pageant
through all it- devious windings about London, and all the way to
W- -tmin-t.-r and the AbV)C-y. He drifted here and there amongst the
multitudes that w.-rc ma"< d in the vicinity for a weary long time,
baillrd and pt-rplexed. and finally waiulered off, thinking, and trying
to contrive some way to better his plan of campaign. By and by,
when he came to him-df out of his musings, he discovered that the
town was far In-hind him and that the day was growing oid. He was-
near the river, and in the country ; it was a region of fine rural seats
not the sort of district to welcome clothes like his.
It was not at all cold; so he stretched himself on the ground in
the lee of a hedge to rest and think. Drowsiness presently began to
settle upon his senses; the faint and far-off boom of cannon was wafted
to his ear. and he said to himself, " The new King is crowned," and
straightway fell asleep. He had not slept or rested, before, for more
than thirty hours. He did not wake again until near the middle of
the next morning.
He got up, lame, stiff, and half famished, washed himself in the
EDWARD AS A'Tl'G.
367
river, stayed his stomach with a pint or two of water, and trudged off
toward Westminster grumbling at himself for having wasted so much
time. Hunger helped him to a new plan, now ; he would try to get
speech with old Sir Humphrey Marlow and borrow a few marks, and
-but that was enough of a plan for the present; it would be time
enough to enlarge it when this first stage should be accomplished.
Toward eleven o'clock he approached the palace ; and although a
" HE STRETCHED HIMSELF ON THE
GROUND.''
host of showy people were about him, moving in the same direction,
he was not inconspicuous his costume took care of that. He watched
these people's faces narrowly, hoping to find a charitable one whose
possessor might be willing to carry his name to the old lieutenant as
to trying to get into the palace himself, that was simply out of the
question.
Presently our whipping-boy passed him, then wheeled about and
scanned his figure well, saying to himself, " An' that is not the very
vagabond his Majesty is in such a worry about, then am I an ass
368 EDWARD AS KIXG.
though belike I was that before. He answereth the description to a
rag that God should make two such, would be to cheapen miracles
by wasteful repetition. I w< >uld I could contrive an excuse to speak
with him."
Miles Hendon saved him the trouble; for he turned about, then,
as a man generally will Avhen somebody mesmerises him by gazing
hard at him from behind ; and observing a strong interest in the boy's
eyes, he stepped toward him and said
" You have just come out from the palace : do you belong there ? "
"Yes, your worship."
" Know you Sir Humphrey Mnrlow ? '
The boy started, and said to himself, "Lord ! mine old departed
i'ath T ! ' Then he answered, aloud, " liight well, your worship."
u Cnod is he within ? '
" Yes, 11 said the boy ; and added, to himself, "within his grave."
" Miirht I crave your favour to carry my name to him, and say I
: i" >;iy a word in his ear ? '
ik I will despatch the business right willingly, fair sir."
" Then say Miles Ilendon, son of Sir Richard, is here without
{ >hall be greatly bounden to you, my good lad."
The boy looked disappointed " the King did not name him so,"
he said to himself " but it mattereth not, this is his twin brother,
iind can give his Majesty news of 'tother Sir-Odds-and-Ends, I war-
rant." So he said to Miles, " Step in there a moment, good sir, and
wait till I bring you word."
Ilendon retired to the place indicated it was a recess sunk in the
palace wall, with a stone bench in it a shelter for sentinels in bad
weather. lie had hardly seated himself when some halberdiers, in
charge of an officer, passed by. The officer saw him, halted his men,
and commanded Hendon to come forth. He obeyed, and was promptly
arrested as a suspicious character prowling within the precincts of the
palace. Things began to look ugly. Poor Miles was going to explain,
"but the officer roughly silenced him, and ordered his men to disarm
iiim and search him.
EDWARD AS KING.
369
" God o his mercy grant that they find somewhat," said poor
Miles ; " I have searched enow, and failed, yet is my need greater than
theirs."
" Nothing was found but a document. The officer tore it open, and
" ARRESTED AS A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER.
\
Hendon smiled when he recognised the " pot-hooks " made by his lost
little friend that black day at Hendon Hall. The officer's face grew
dark as he read the English paragraph, and Miles blenched to the
opposite colour as he listened.
" Another new claimant of the crown ! " cried the officer. " Verily
B B
370 ED WAX >D AS KIXG.
they breed like rabbits, to-day. Seize the rascal, men, and see ye
keep him fast whilst I convey this precious paper within and send it to
the King."
He hurried away, leaving the prisoner in the grip of the halber-
diers.
"Now is my evil luck ended at last," muttered Ilendon. "for I
shall dangle at a rope's end for a certainty, by reason of that bit of
writing. And what will become of my poor lad ! ah, only the good
God know* tli."
By and by he saw the officer coming again, in a irreat hurry ; so he
plucked his courage together, purposing to meet his trouble as became
a man. The officer ordered the men to loose the prisoner and return
his sword to him; then bowed respectfully, and said
"Please you, sir, to follow me."
Ilendon followed, savinir to himself, " An' I were not travelling to
death and judgment, and .-o mu>t needs economise in sin, I would
throttle this knave for his mock couite-v."
The two traversed a populous court, and arrived at the grand
entrance of the palace, where the officer, with another bow, delivered
Ilendon into the hands of a gorgeous official, who received him with
i
profound respect and led him forward through a great hall, lined on
both sides with rows of splendid flunkeys (who made reverential obei-
sance as the two pa>sed along, but iell into death-throes of silent
laughter at our stately scarecrow the moment his back was turned),
and up a broad staircase, among flocks of fine folk, and finally con-
ducted him into a vast room, clove a passage for him through the
assembled nobility of England, then made a bow, reminded him to
take his hat off, and left him standing in the middle of the room, a
mark for all eyes, for plenty of indignant frowns, and for a sufficiency
of amused and derisive smiles.
Miles Hendon was entirely bewildered. There sat the young King,
under a canopy of state, five steps away, with his head bent down and
aside, speaking with a sort of human bird of paradise a duke, maybe;
Hendon observed to himself that it was hard enough to be sentenced
o
EDWARD AS KING. 371
to death in the full vigour of life, without having this peculiarly public
humiliation added. He wished the King would hurry about it some
of the gaudy people near by were becoming pretty offensive. At
this moment the King raised his head slightly, and Hendon caught a
good view of his face. The sight nearly took his breath away !-
He stood gazing at the fair young face like one transfixed ; then pre-
sently ejaculated
"Lo, the Lord of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows on his
throne ! "
He muttered some broken sentences, still gazing and marvelling ;
then turned his eyes around and about, scanning the gorgeous throng
and the splendid saloon, murmuring, " But these are real verily these
are real surely it is not a dream."
He stared at the King again and thought, " Is it a dream . . .
or is he the veritable Sovereign of England, and not the friendless poor
Tom o' Bedlam I took him for who shall solve me this riddle ? '
A sudden idea flashed in his eye, and he strode to the wall,
gathered up a chair, brought it back, planted it on the floor, and
sat down in it !
A buzz of indignation broke out, a rough hand was laid upon him
and a voice exclaimed,
"Up, thou mannerless clown ! wouldst sit in the presence of the
King ? "
The disturbance attracted his Majesty's attention, who stretched
forth his hand and cried out
" Touch him not, it is his right ! '
The throng fell back, stupefied. The King went on
" Learn ye all, ladies, lords, and gentlemen, that this is my trusty
and well beloved servant, Miles Hendon, who interposed his good
sword and saved his prince from bodily harm and possible death and
for this he is a knight, by the King's voice. Also learn, that for a
higher service, in that he saved his sovereign stripes and shame, talcing
these upon himself, he is a peer of England, Earl of Kent, and shall
have gold and lands meet for the dignity. More the privilege which
B B 2
372
EDWARD AS KIXG.
he hath just exercised is his by royal grant; for we have ordained
the chiefs of his line shall have and hold the right to sit in the
sence of the Majesty of England hence-
forth, age after age, so long as t
crown shall endure. Molest him not/'
Two persons, who, through d-l:iy.
had only arrived from the country
during this morning, and had n<>\v 1"
in this room only five mimr
that
pre-
ft
SAt^
4 V W '
^ . H i ' - 1
IT IS UIS HIGHT.
list' to these words and
1' oking at the King, then at
the
scarecrow, then at the
Kirg again, in a sort of torpid
bewilderment. These were Sir
Hugh and the Lady Edith.
But the new Earl did not see
them. He was still staring at
the monarch, in a dazed way, and muttering
" Oh, body o' me ! This my pauper ! This my
lunatic ! This is he whom / would show what
grandeur was, in my house of seventy rooms and
seven and twenty servants ! This is he who had never known aught
EDWARD AS KING.
373
but rags for raiment, kicks for comfort, and offal for diet ! This is
he whom / adopted and would make respectable ! Would God I had
a bag to hide my head in ! "
Then his manners suddenly came back to him, and he dropped
upon his knees, with his hands between the
King's, and swore allegiance and did homage
for his lands and titles. Then he rose and
" STEIP THIS ROBBER."
stood respectfully aside, a mark
still for all eyes and much ^=jf
envy, too.
Now the King discovered Sir Hugh, and spoke out, with wrathful
voice and kindling eye
<; Strip this robber of his false show and stolen estates, and put him
under lock and key till I have need of him."
The late Sir Hugh was led away.
374
EDWAIiD AS KIXG.
There was a stir at the other end of the room, now ; the assemblage
fell apart, and Tom Canty, quaintly but richly clothed, marched down,
between these living walls,
preceded by an usher. lie
^ V W*
knelt before the King, who
said
Ti>M HOSE AND KISSED THE KINGS HAND.
" I have learned the story of these past few weeks, and am well
pleased with thee. Thou hast governed the realm with right royal
gentleness and mercy. Thou hast found thy mother and thy sisters
again ? Good ; they shall be cared for and thy father shall hang,
if thou desire it and the law consent. Know, all ye that hear my
voice, that from this day, they that abide in the shelter of Christ's
EDWARD AS KING. 375
Hospital and share the King's bounty shall have their minds and
hearts fed, as well as their baser parts ; and this boy shall dwell there,
and hold the chief place in its honourable body of governors, during
life. And for that he hath been a king, it is meet that other than
common observance shall be his due ; wherefore note this his dress of
state, for by it he shall be known, and none shall copy it ; and where-
soever he shall come, it shall remind the people that he hath been
royal, in his time, and none shall deny him his due of reverence or fail
to give him salutation. He hath the throne's protection, he hath the
crown's support, he shall be known and called by the honourable title
of the King's Ward."
The proud and happy Tom Canty rose and kissed the King's hand,
and was conducted from the presence. He did not waste any time,
but flew to his mother, to tell her and Nan and Bet all about it and
get them to help him enjoy the great news. 1
1 See Notes to Chapter XXXIII., at end of the volume.
1
379
CONCLUSION.
JUSTICE AND RETRIBUTION.
WHEN the mysteries were all cleared up, it came out, by confession of
Hugh Hendon, that his wife had repudiated Miles by his command,
that day at Hendon Hall a command assisted and supported by the
perfectly trustworthy promise that if she did not deny that he was
Miles Hendon, and stand firmly to it, he would have her life; where-
upon she said take it, she did not value it and she would not repudiate
Miles ; then the husband said he would spare her life but have Miles
assassinated ! This was a different matter ; so she gave her word and
kept it.
Hugh was not prosecuted for his threats or for stealing his brother's
estates and title, because the wife and brother would not testify against
him and the former would not have been allowed to do it, even if
she had wanted to. Hugh deserted his wife and went over to the
continent, where he presently died ; and by and by the Earl of Kent
married his relict. There were grand times and rejoicings at Hendon
village when the couple paid their first visit to the Hall.
Tom Canty's father was never heard of again.
The King sought out the farmer who had been branded and sold as
a slave, and reclaimed him from his evil life with the Ruffler's gang,
and put him in the way of a comfortable livelihood.
He also took that old lawyer out of prison and remitted his fine.
He provided good homes for the daughters of the two Baptist women
380 JUSTICE AND RETRIBUTION.
whom he saw burned at the stake, and roundly punished the official
who laid the undeserved stripes upon Miles Hendon's back.
He saved from the gallows the boy who had captured the stray
falcon, and also the woman who had stolen a remnant of cloth from a
weaver ; but he was too late to save the man who had been convicted
of killing a deer in the royal forest.
He showed favour to the justice who had pitied him when he was
supposed to have stolen a pig, and he had the gratification of seeing
him grow in the public esteem and become a great and honoured man.
As long as the King lived he was fond of telling the story of his
adventures, all through, from the hour that the sentinel cuffed him
away from the palace gate till the final midnight when he deftly mixed
himself into a gang of hurrying workmen and so slipped into the
Abbey and climbed up and hid himself in the Confessor's tomb, and
then slept so long, next day, that he came within one of missing the
Coronation altogether. He said that the frequent rehearsing of the
precious lesson kept him strong in his purpose to make its teachings
yield benefits to his people ; and so, whilst his life was spared
he should continue to tell the story, and thus keep its sorrowful
spectacles fresh in his memory and the springs of pity replenished in
his heart,
Miles Hendon and Tom Canty were favourites of the King, all
through his brief reign, and his sincere mourners when he died. The
good Earl of Kent had too much sense to abuse his peculiar privilege ;
but he exercised it tAvice after the instance we have seen of it before
he was called from the world once at the accession of Queen Mary,
and once at the accession of Queen Elizabeth. A descendant of his
exercised it at the accession of James I. Before this one's son chose
to use the privilege, near a quarter of a century had elapsed, and the
"privilege of the Kents" had faded out of most people's memories ;
so, when the Kent of that day appeared before Charles I. and his court
and sat down in the sovereign's presence to assert and perpetuate the
right of his house, there was a fine stir indeed ! But the matter was
soon explained, and the right confirmed. The last Earl of the line fell
JUSTICE AND RETRIBUTION. 381
in the wars of the Commonwealth fighting for the King, and the odd
privilege ended with him.
Tom Canty lived to be a very old man, a handsome, white-haired
old fellow, of grave and benignant aspect. As long as he lasted he
was honoured ; and he Avas also reverenced, for his striking and peculiar
costume kept the people reminded that " in his time he had been
royal ; " so, wherever he appeared the crowd fell apart, making way
for him, and whispering, one to another, " Doff thy hat, it is the King's
"Ward ! ' and so they saluted, and got his kindly smile in return
and they valued it, too, for his was an honourable history.
Yes, King Edward VI. lived only a few years, poor boy, but he
lived them worthily. More than once, when some great dignitary,
some gilded vassal of the crown, made argument against his leniency,
and urged that some law which he was bent upon amending was gentle
enough for its purpose, and wrought no suffering or oppression which
any one need mightily mind, the young King turned the mournful
eloquence of his great compassionate eyes upon him and answered
" What dost Ihou know of suffering and oppression ? I and my
people know, but not thou."
The reign of Edward VI. was a singularly merciful one for those
harsh times. Now that we are taking leave of him, let us try to keep
this in our minds, to his credit.
385
NOTES
NOTE 1, page 30.
Christ's Hospital Costume.
It is most reasonable to regard the dress as copied from the costume of
the citizens of London of that period, when long blue coats were the
common habit of apprentices and serving-men, and yellow stockings were
generally worn ; the coat fits closely to the body, but has loose sleeves, and
beneath is worn a sleeveless yellow under-coat ; around the waist is a red
leathern girdle ; a clerical band around the neck, and a small flat black cap,
about the size of a saucer, completes the costume. limbs' Curiosities of
London.
NOTE 2, page 32.
It appears that Christ's Hospital was Dot originally founded as a school ;
its object was to rescue children from the streets, to shelter, feed, clothe
them, &c. Timbs' Curiosities of London.
NOTE 3, page 48.
The Diike of Norfolk's Condemnation commanded.
The King was now approaching fast towards his end ; and fearing lest
Norfolk should escape him, he sent a message to the Commons, by which
he desired them to hasten the bill, on pretence that Norfolk enjoyed the
dignity of Earl-M arshal, and it was necessary to appoint another, who
might officiate at the ensuing ceremony of installing his son Prince of
Wales. Hume's Hi stwy of England, vol. iii. p. 307.
C C
386 JVOT-ES
NOTE 4, page 68.
It was not till the end of this reign [Henry VIII.] that any salads,
carrots, turnips, or other edible roots were produced in England. The little
of these vegetables that was used was formerly imported from Holland and
Flanders. Queen Catherine, when she wanted a salad, was obliged to
despatch a messenger thither on purpose. Hume's History of England,
vol. iii. p. 314.
NOTE 5, page 78.
Attainder of Norfolk.
The House of Peers, without examining the prisoner, without trial or
evidence, passed a bill of attainder against him and sent it down to the
Commons. . . . The obsequious Commons obeyed his [the King's] directions ;
and the King, having affixed the Royal assent to the bill by commissioners,
. issued orders for the execution of Norfolk on the morning of January 29
[the next day]. Hume's History of England, vol. iii. p. 306.
NOTE 6, page 98.
The Loving-cup.
The loving-cup, and the peculiar ceremonies observed in drinking from
it, are older than English history. It is thought that both are Danish
importations. As far back as knowledge goes, the loving-cup has always
been drunk at English banquets. Tradition explains the ceremonies in this
way. In the rude ancient times it was deemed a wise precaution to have
both hands of both drinkers employed, lest while the pledger pledged his
love and fidelity to the pledgee, the pledgee take that opportunity to slip a
dirk into him !
NOTE 7, page 109.
The Duke of Norfolk's narrow Escape.
Had Henry VIII. survived a few hours longer, his order for the duke's
execution would have been carried into effect. " But news being carried
to the Tower that the King himself had expired that night, the lieutenant
deferred obeying the warrant ; and it was not thought advisable by the
Council to begin a new reign by the death of the greatest nobleman in the
kingdom, who had been condemned by a sentence so unjust and tyrannical."
Hume's History of England* vol. iii. p, 307.
NOTES. 387
ISoiE 8, page 151.
*
The Whipping-boy.
James I. and Charles II. had whipping-boys, when they were little
fellows, to take their punishment for them when they fell short in their
lessons ; so I have ventured to furnish my small prince with one, for my
own purposes.
NOTES TO CHAPTER XV., page 159.
Character of Hertford.
The young King discovered an extreme attachment to his uncle, who
was, in the main, a man of moderation and probity. Hume's History of
England, vol. iii. p. 324.
But if he [the Protector] gave offence by assuming too much state, he
deserves great praise on account of the laws passed this session, by which
the rigour of former statutes was much mitigated, and some security given
to the freedom of the constitution. All laws were repealed which extended
the crime of treason beyond the statute of the twenty-fifth of Edward III. ;
all laws enacted during the late reign extending the crime of felony ; all the
former laws against Lollardy or heresy, together with the statute of the
Six Articles. None were to be accused for words, but within a month after
they were spoken. By these repeals several of the most rigorous laws that
ever had passed in England were annulled ; and some dawn, both of civil
and religious liberty, began to appear to the people. A repeal also passed
of that law, the destruction of all laws, by which the King's proclamation
was made of equal force with a statute. Ibid., vol. iii. p. 339.
Soiling to Death,
In the reign of Henry VIII. poisoners were, by Act of Parliament,
condemned to be boiled to death. This Act was repealed in the following
reign.
In Germany, even in the seventeenth century, this horrible punishment
was inflicted on coiners and counterfeiters. Taylor, the Water Poet,
describes an execution he witnessed in Hamburg in 1616. The judgment
pronounced against a coiner of false money was that he should " be boiled
to death in oil : not thrown into the vessel at once, but with a pulley or
rope to be hanged under the armpits, and then let down nto the oil by
degrees ; first the feet, and next the legs, and so to boil his flesh from his
bones alive."- Dr. J, Hammond Trumbull's Blue Laws, True and False, p. 13.
c c 2
388 NOTES.
The Famous Stocking Case.
A woman and her daughter, nine years old, were hanged in Huntingdon
for selling their souls to the devil, and raising a storrn by pulling off their
stockings ! Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull's Blue Laivs, True and False, p. 20.
NOTE 10, page 194.
Enslaving.
So young a King and so ignorant a peasant were likely to make mistakes ;
and this is an instance in point. This peasant was suffering from this law
by anticipation ; the King was venting his indignation against a law which
was not yet in existence ; for this hideous statute was to have birth in this
little King's own reign. However, we know, from the humanity of his
character, that it could never have been suggested by him.
O CJ v
NOTES TO CHAPTER XXIII., page 261.
Death for Trifling Larcenies.
When Connecticut and New Haven were framing their first codes,
larceny above the value of twelve pence was a capital crime in England
as it had been since the time of Henry I. Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull's
Blue Laws, True and False, p. 17.
The curious old book called The English Rogue makes the limit thirteen
pence ha'penny ; death being the portion of any who steal a thing " above
the value of thirteen pence ha'penny."
NOTES TO CHAPTER XXVII., page 299.
From many descriptions of larceny the law expressly took away the
benefit of clergy ; to steal a horse, or a hmvk, or woollen cloth from the
weaver, was a hanging matter. So it was to kill a deer from the King's
forest, or to export sheep from the kingdom. Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull's
Blue Laws, True and False, p. 13.
William Prynne, a learned barrister, was sentenced [long after Edward
VI.'s time] to lose both his ears in the pillory, to degradation from the bar,
a fine of 3,000/., and imprisonment for life. Three years afterwards he
gave new offence to Laud by publishing a pamphlet against the hierarchy.
He was again prosecuted, and was sentenced to lose what remained of his
ears, to pay a fine of 5,000/., to be branded on both his cheeks with the
NOTES. 389
letters S. L. (for Seditious Libeller), and to remain in prison for life. The
severity of this sentence was equalled by the savage rigour of its execution.
-Ibid., p. 12.
NOTES TO CHAPTER XXXIII., page 365.
Christ's Hospital, or Bluecoat School, " the noblest institution in the
world."
The ground on which the Priory of the Grey Friars stood was conferred
by Henry VIII. on the Corporation of London, [who caused the institution
there of a home for poor boys and girls]. Subsequently, Edward VI. caused
the old Priory to be properly repaired, and founded within it that noble
establishment called the Bluecoat School, or Christ's Hospital, for the
education and maintenance of orphans and the children of indigent persons.
. . . Edward would not let him (Bishop Ridley) depart till the letter was
written (to the Lord Mayor), and then charged him to deliver it himself,
and signify his special request and commandment that no time might be
lost in proposing what was convenient, and apprising him of the proceedings.
The work was zealously undertaken, Ridley himself engaging in it ; and the
result was the founding of Christ's Hospital for the education of poor chil-
dren. [The King endowed several other charities at the same time.] " Lord
God," said he, " I yield Thee most hearty thanks that Thou hast given me
life thus long to finish this work to the glory of Thy name ! " That inno-
cent and most exemplary life was drawing rapidly to its close, and in a few
days he rendered up his spirit to his Creator, praying God to defend the
realm from Papistry. J. Heneage Jesse's London : its Celebrated Characters
and Places.
In the Great Hall hangs a large picture of King Edward VI. seated on
his throne, in a scarlet and ermined robe, holding the sceptre in his left
hand, and presenting with the other the Charter to the kneeling Lord
Mayor. By his side stands the Chancellor, holding the seals, and next to
him are other officers of state. Bishop Ridley kneels before him with
uplifted hands, as if supplicating a blessing on the event ; whilst the Alder-
men, etc., with the Lord Mayor, kneel on both sides, occupying the middle
ground of the picture ; and lastly, in front, are a double row of boys on one
side and girls on the other, from the master and matron down to the boy
and girl who have stepped forward from their respective rows, and kneel
with raised hands before the King. Timbs' Curiosities of London, p. 98.
Christ's Hospital, by ancient custom, possesses the privilege of addressing
the Sovereign on the occasion of his or her coming into the City to partake
of the hospitality of the Corporation of London. Ibid.
The Dining Hall, with its lobby and organ-gallery, occupies the entire
390 NOTES.
storey, which is 187 feet long, 51 feet wide, and 47 feet high ; it is lit by
nine large windows, filled with stained glass on the south side ; and is, next
to Westminster Hall, the noblest room in the metropolis. Here the boys,
now about 800 in number, dine ; and here are held the " Suppings in
Public," to which visitors are admitted by tickets issued by the Treasurer
and by the Governors of Christ's Hospital. The tables are laid with cheese
in wooden bowls, beer in wooden piggins, poured from leathern jacks, and
bread brought in large 'baskets. The official company enter ; the Lord
Mayor, or President, takes his seat in a state chair made of oak from St.
Catherine's Church, by the Tower ; a hymn is sung, accompanied by the
organ ; a " Grecian," or head boy, reads the prayers from the pulpit, silence
being enforced by three drops of a wooden hammer. After prayer the
supper commences, and the visitors walk between the tables. At its close
the "trade-boys" take up the baskets, bowls, jacks, piggins, and candle-
sticks, and pass in procession, the bowing to the Governors being curiously
formal. This spectacle was witnessed by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert
in 1845.
Among the more eminent Bluecoat boys are Joshua Barnes, editor of
Anacreon and Euripides ; Jeremiah Markland, the eminent critic, particu-
larly in Greek literature; Camden, the antiquary; Bishop Stillingfleet ;
Samuel Richardson, the novelist ; Thomas Mitchell, the translator of Aris-
tophanes ; Thomas Barnes, many years editor of the London Times ; Cole-
ridge, Charles Lamb, and Leigh Hunt.
No boy is admitted before he is seven years old, or after he is nine ; and
no boy can remain in the school after he is fifteen, King's boys and " Gre-
cians " alone excepted. There are about 500 Governors, at the head of
whom are the Sovereign and the Prince of Wales. The qualification for a
Governor is payment of 500Z. Ibid.
GENERAL NOTE.
One hears much about the " hideous Blue-Laws of Connecticut" and is
accustomed to shudder piously when they are mentioned. There are people-
in America and even in England! who imagine that they were a very
monument of malignity, pitUessness, and inhumanity; ivhereas in reality
they were about the first SWEEPING DEPARTURE FROM JUDICIAL ATROCITY
id deli the " civilised" 1 world had seen. This humane and kindly Blue-Law
Code, of two hundred and forty years ago, stands all by itself , with ages of
bloody law on the further side of it, and a century and three-quarters of bloody
English law on THIS side of it.
NOTES. 391
There has never been a time under the Slue-Laws or any other when
above FOURTEEN crimes were punishable by death in Connecticut. But in
England, within the memory of men U'ho are still hale in body and mind, TWO
HUNDRED AXD TWEXTY-THREE crimes were punishable by death ! ' These
facts are worth kiwiting and worth thinking about, too.
1 See Dr. J. Hammond TrumbulTs Slue Laics, True and False, p. 11.
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The Mystery of Marie Roget.
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