Meanwhile, the procession was pursuing its slow course towards the
tilt-yard. It returned by the route it had taken in coming; but it now
kept on the north side of King Street, which thoroughfare was divided in
the midst by a railing, and deeply sanded.
Here, as in the area before Westminster-hall, not a wall, not a window,
not a roof, but had its occupants. The towers of the two great gates
were thronged--so were the roofs of the tennis-court and the manége, and
the summit of the cock-pit; the latter, indeed, was a capital position
inasmuch as it not only afforded an excellent view of the procession,
but commanded the interior of the tilt-yard. No wonder, therefore, that
great efforts should be made to obtain a place upon it, nor is it
surprising that our old friend, Madame Bonaventure, who had by no means
lost her influence among the court gallants, though she lacked, the
support of Lord Roos, owing to the absence of that young nobleman upon
his travels,--it is not surprising, we say, that she should be among the
favoured individuals who had secured a position there. Undoubtedly, she
would have preferred a seat amongst the court dames in the galleries of
the tilt-yard, but as this was unattainable, she was obliged to be
content; and, indeed, she had no reason to complain, for she saw quite
as much as those inside, and was more at her ease.
From this exalted position, while listening to the inspiriting clangour
of the trumpets, the clattering of arms, and the trampling and neighing
of steeds, Madame Bonaventure could scrutinize the deportment of each
knight as he issued from the lofty arch of the Holbein Gate, and rode
slowly past her. She had ample time to count the number of his
attendants before he disappeared from her view. As Sir Jocelyn
Mounchensey approached, with his visor raised, and his countenance
radiant with smiles at the cheers he had received, she recognised in him
her former guest, and participating in the general enthusiasm,
prevailing for the young knight, she leaned over the parapet, and
addressed to him a greeting so hearty that it procured for her a
courteous salutation in return. Enchanted with this, she followed with
her eyes the graceful figure of Sir Jocelyn till it was lost to view--to
re-appear a moment after in the tilt-yard.
Turning in this direction,--for all her interest was now centred in the
young knight,--Madame Bonaventure allowed her gaze to pass over the
entrance of the lists, and she goon espied him she sought, in conference
with Prince Charles, and some other knights of his party. Near them was
stationed Garter King-at-arms, apparelled in his tabard, and mounted on
a horse covered with housings of cloth of gold. Glancing round the
inclosure she perceived that all the foremost seats in the galleries and
scaffolds set apart for the principal court dames were already filled,
and she was quite dazzled with the galaxy of female loveliness presented
to her gaze. Behind the court dames were a host of fluttering gallants
in rich apparel, laughing and jesting with them on the probable issue of
the contest they had come to witness.
She then looked round the arena. Stout barriers of wood were drawn
across it, with openings at either end for the passage of the knights.
At these openings were placed all the various officers of the tilt-yard,
whose attendance was not required outside, including eight mounted
trumpeters, four at one end of the field, and four at the other,
together with a host of yeomen belonging to Prince Charles, in liveries
of white, with leaves of gold, and black caps, with wreaths and bands of
gold, and black and white plumes.
At the western extremity of the inclosure stood the royal gallery,
richly decorated for the occasion with velvet and cloth of gold, and
having the royal arms emblazoned in front. Above it floated the royal
standard. Supported by strong oaken posts, and entered by a staircase at
the side, this gallery was open below, and the space thus left was
sufficiently large to accommodate a dozen or more mounted knights,
while thick curtains could be let down at the sides to screen them from
observation, if required. Here it was intended that the Prince of Wales
and his six companions-at-arms should assemble, and wait till summoned
forth from it by the marshals of the field. There was a similar place of
assemblage for the Duke of Lennox and his knights at the opposite end of
the tilt-yard; and at both spots there were farriers, armourers, and
grooms in attendance, to render assistance, if needful.
On the right of the field stood an elevated platform, covered with a
canopy, and approached by a flight of steps. It was reserved for the
marshals and judges, and facing it was the post affixed to the barriers,
from which the ring, the grand prize of the day, was suspended, at a
height exactly within reach of a lance. Like the streets without, the
whole arena was deeply sanded.
This was what Madame Bonaventure beheld from the roof of the cock-pit,
and a very pretty sight she thought it.
All things, it will be seen, were in readiness, in the tilt yard,--and
the arrival of the King seemed to be impatiently expected--not only by
the knights who were eager to display their prowess, but by the court
dames and the gallants with them, as well as by all the officials
scattered about in different parts of the field, and enlivening it by
their variegated costumes.
Suddenly loud acclamations resounding from all sides of the tilt-yard,
accompanied by flourishes of trumpets, proclaimed the entrance of the
royal laggard to the gallery. James took his place in the raised seat
assigned to him, and after conferring for a few moments with the Conde
de Gondomar, who formed part of the brilliant throng of nobles and
ambassadors in attendance, he signified to Sir John Finett that the
jousting might commence, and the royal pleasure was instantly made known
to the marshals of the field.
The first course was run by Prince Charles, who acquitted himself with
infinite grace and skill, but failed in carrying off the ring; and
similar ill luck befell the Duke of Lennox. The Marquis of Hamilton was
the next to run, and he met with no better success; and the fourth essay
was made by Buckingham. His career was executed with all the consummate
address for which the favourite was remarkable, and it appeared certain
that he would carry off the prize; but in lowering his lance he did not
make sufficient allowance for the wind, and this caused it slightly to
swerve, and though he touched the ring, he did not bear it away. The
course, however, was considered a good one by the judges, and much
applauded; but the Marquis was greatly mortified by his failure.
It now came to Sir Jocelyn's turn, and his breast beat high with
ardour, as he prepared to start on his career. Keeping his back to the
ring till the moment of setting forward, he made a demi-volte to the
right, and then gracefully raising his lance, as his steed started on
its career, he continued to hold it aloft until he began to near the
object of his aim, when he gently and firmly allowed the point to
decline over the right ear of his horse, and adjusted it in a line with
the ring. His aim proved so unerring that he carried off the prize, amid
universal applause.