John and Betty's History Visit Part 3

_Page 44._]

John went up to investigate, and found that right in the middle of the vast room was a high hearth, on which some logs were piled. "But how----?" he was asking, when the guide's explanations flowed on once more:

"Yes, the smoke went out through a little hole in the roof. This hall has never been restored, you see. That's the best thing about it, most people think, lady. Here's the oak paneling, turned gray with age; there, up on the wall, are the original grotesque figures, carved in wood; here, are two of the old tables, as old as the hall; and there's the musicians' gallery, at that end, over the entrance."

Mrs. Pitt was leaning against one of the ma.s.sive tables, with her eyes partly closed. "Let's just imagine the grand feasts which have been held here," she mused. "I can almost see the Lord and Lady, dressed in purple and scarlet, sitting with their guests at a table across this end of the room. A board stretches down the length of the hall, and here sit the inferiors and retainers. A long procession of servants is winding always around the tables, bearing great roasts, birds, pasties, and all sorts of goodies, on huge platters, high above their heads. Up in the gallery here, the musicians are playing loudly and gayly, and even when they cease the guests do not lack for entertainment, for the fool, in his dress of rainbow colors, is continually saying witty things and propounding funny riddles. In such a place much elegance and ceremony were the necessary accompaniments of a grand feast. In a book giving instructions for the serving of the Royal table, is this direction, which always interested me: 'First set forth mustard with brawn; take your knife in your hand, and cut the brawn in the dish, as it lieth, and lay on your Sovereign's trencher, and see that there be mustard.' As you see, they were exceedingly fond of mustard. Richard Tarleton, an actor of Queen Elizabeth's time, who was much at Court as jester, is reported as having called mustard 'a witty scold meeting another scold.'"

The guide was growing impatient, and Mrs. Pitt ceased, saying reluctantly, "Well, I suppose we must go on."

A servant rang a bell, and soon, down some stairs came a dear little old lady dressed in stiff black silk, with white ap.r.o.n and cap, and mitts on her hands. She escorted the party up the stairs, into her domain.

"Wouldn't you just know to look at her that she had been in the family all her life?" whispered Barbara to Betty.

First they saw the Ball-room, a stately apartment in which hang three very valuable chandeliers, which Queen Elizabeth gave to Sir Henry Sidney. The next room is still called "Queen Elizabeth's Room," for here that Queen slept when upon a visit to the house. The same furniture which she used is still in place, as well as some tapestries made in honor of the visit, by Lady Sidney.

"If Queen Elizabeth slept in that bed," remarked Betty, "she couldn't have been very tall."

Their guide, taking this as criticism of one of her beloved treasures, was quick to say:

"It only looks short, because it's so uncommon wide, begging your pardon, Miss."

"Did that stool belong to anybody?" questioned Barbara, tactfully changing the subject. "It looks as if it has a history."

"And it has, Miss; that stool was used by the late Queen Victoria (G.o.d bless her!), at her coronation at Westminster Abbey!" and the loyal old lady patted the black velvet stool respectfully.

The rooms and corridors of the old house are crowded with things of interest. Sir Philip's helmet is there, and a bit of his shaving-gla.s.s. In a small room called the "Pages' Closet," are preserved rare specimens of china--Queen Elizabeth's dessert-set, in green, and Queen Anne's breakfast-set, in blue and white. Betty and Barbara were deeply interested in Mary Stuart's jewel-case, and they laughed over a very curious old painting which shows Queen Elizabeth dancing. The long picture-gallery is lined with portraits--most of them Sidneys--and among them those of the mother of Sir Philip, and of his sister, the Countess of Pembroke, for whom he wrote his "Arcadia."

When they again pa.s.sed through the Ball-room on their way out, they were shown a little square window on one of the walls, which they had not noticed before.

"Why! I can see down into the Banquet-hall!" exclaimed Philip, who had climbed up to look through.

"Yes," said their guide, "in the olden times, the master at the ball could look through there to see how the servants were behaving, down in the hall below."

Out on the lawn again, they lingered for a few minutes while Mrs. Pitt reminded them that there is every reason to believe that under those very trees Spenser wrote his "Shepherd's Calendar."

Reluctantly they left the castle and walked back to the carriage, which awaited them in the village.

"If all English castles are as beautiful as Penshurst Place," declared Betty earnestly, "I can't go back to America until I have seen every one!"

CHAPTER FIVE

THE TOWER OF LONDON

"I should think they'd call it 'The Towers,' instead of 'The Tower,'"

remarked Betty, surveying the curious, irregular jumble of buildings before her, as they left the bus.

"That's true," Mrs. Pitt agreed; "but I suppose the name was first given to the White Tower, which is the oldest part and was built by William the Conqueror as long ago as 1080. Why did they call it the White Tower? Well, I believe it was because they whitewashed the walls in the thirteenth century. Why, what's the matter, John?"

"I want to see who those fellows in the funny red uniforms are," John called back, as he ran ahead.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I WANT TO SEE WHO THOSE FELLOWS IN THE FUNNY RED UNIFORMS ARE."--_Page 50._]

When they reached the entrance, they saw John admiring a group of these "fellows," who stood just inside the gate. In reality, they are old soldiers who have served the King well, and are therefore allowed to be the keepers and guides of the Tower. They bear the strange name of "beefeaters" (a word grown from the French "buffetiers"), and are very picturesque in their gorgeous scarlet uniforms, covered with gilt tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs and many badges, a style of costume which these custodians have worn ever since the time of Henry VIII, and which was designed by the painter, Holbein.

Any one may pay sixpence for a ticket which ent.i.tles him to wander about the precincts of the Tower, and to see the "Crown Jewels," and the armory, but Mrs. Pitt, being more ambitious for her young friends, had obtained a permit from the Governor of the Tower. This she presented to the "beefeater" who stood by the first gateway, after they had crossed the great empty moat. The old man stepped to a tiny door behind him, opened it, disclosing a small, winding stair, and called "Warder! Party, please!"

A venerable "beefeater" with white hair and beard came in answer to the summons, and bowing politely to the party, immediately started off with them. They set out along a little, narrow, paved street, lined by ancient buildings or high walls.

"They do say h'as 'ow the Princess Elizabeth, afterwards Queen, was h'imprisoned in that room, up there," stated the guide, pointing to a small window in a wall on their left. "By Queen Mary's h'orders she was brought in through the Traitor's Gate, there. That was a great disgrace, you know, Miss," he said to Betty, "for h'all the State prisoners entered by there, and few of them h'ever again left the Tower."

Before them some steps led down to a little paved court, and beyond, under a building, they saw the terrible Traitor's Gate,--a low, gloomy arch, with great wooden doors. The water formerly came through the arch and up to the steps, at which the unfortunate prisoners were landed. As the Princess Elizabeth stepped from the boat, she cried, "Here landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs; and before Thee, O G.o.d, I speak it!"

"Isn't there a proverb, 'A loyal heart may be landed at Traitor's Gate'?" questioned Mrs. Pitt; and turning to the guide she added, "Wasn't it right here where we are standing that Margaret Roper caught sight of her father, Sir Thomas More, after his trial?" As the guide nodded his a.s.sent, she went on, "You all remember Sir Thomas More, of course,--the great and n.o.ble man whom Henry VIII beheaded because he would not swear allegiance to the King as head of the Church in England. In those days, an ax was always carried in the boat with the prisoner, on his return to the Tower, after the trial. If the head of the ax was turned toward the victim, it was a sign that he was condemned. It was here, as I said, that Margaret Roper stood with the crowd, eagerly watching for the first glimpse of her beloved father; and when he came near and she saw the position of the ax, she broke away from the soldiers, and flung herself into her father's arms. The two were so devoted that their story has always seemed an especially pathetic one to me. I suppose there were many like it, however."

"Indeed there were, lady," returned the guide, quite moved.

Just opposite Traitor's Gate is the b.l.o.o.d.y Tower, the most picturesque bit of the entire fortress. The old portcullis there is known as the only one in England which is still fit for use. At the side is an ancient and rusty iron ring, which attracted John's attention so much that he asked about it.

"Boatmen coming through the Traitor's Gate yonder, used to tie their boats to that ring," the "beefeater" told them. "That shows you 'ow much farther h'up the water came in those days. H'in a room over the gateway of the b.l.o.o.d.y Tower there, the Duke of Clarence, h'according to some, drowned himself in a b.u.t.t of Malmsey wine; and in h'an adjoining room, they say that the little Princes were murdered by h'order of their uncle, the powerful Duke of Gloucester, who stole their right to the throne. Right 'ere, at the foot of these steps, is where 'e 'urriedly buried them, h'after 'is men 'ad smothered them."

The children stood gazing at the little window over the gateway, their eyes big with horror. It did not seem as though such terrible things could have been done there in that little room, into which the sun now poured through the tiny window.

Every night at eleven o'clock, the warder on guard at the b.l.o.o.d.y Tower challenges the Chief Warder, who pa.s.ses bearing the keys. Each time this conversation follows:--

"Who goes there?"

"Keys."

"Whose keys?"

"King Edward VII's keys."

"Advance King Edward VII's keys, and all's well."

Not until then, may the keys in the Chief Warder's care be allowed to pa.s.s on.

Some steps just beyond lead into the Wakefield Tower, where the "Crown Jewels" are now kept. The "beefeater" remained below, but Mrs. Pitt took the young people up into the little round room where the splendid crowns and other jewels are seen, behind iron bars. After examining minutely the objects on view, while leaning just as far as possible over the rail, John burst out with:

"Just look at those huge salt-cellars!" pointing to several very large gold ones. "I should say that the English must be about as fond of salt as they are of mustard, to have wanted those great things! Oh, I don't care for these!" he added. "They are stupid, I think! Imagine being King Edward, and owning such elegant crowns, scepters, and things, and then letting them stay way down here at the Tower, where he can't get at them! What's the use of having them, I'd like to know!

Oh, come on! I've seen enough of these!"

"Wait just a minute, John," interrupted Betty. "See! here's Queen Victoria's crown, and in it is the ruby that belonged to the Black Prince, and which Henry V wore in his helmet at Agincourt! Just think!" with a sigh. "Now I'll go."

"Speaking of crowns," observed Mrs. Pitt, in pa.s.sing down the stairs, "have you ever heard about the large emerald which George III wore in his crown, at his coronation? During the ceremony, it fell out, and superst.i.tious people regarded it as a bad omen. Their fears were realized when that sovereign lost something much dearer to him than any jewel: his American Colonies."