marriage treaty was made
one of perpetual peace between England and Scotland--a treaty indeed not
worth the paper it was written upon, yet probably giving comfort to some
sanguine spirits. Had the prudent old monarch remained on the throne of
England as long as James ruled in Scotland it might indeed never have
been broken; but Henry was already old, and his son as hot-headed as the
cousin and traditionary adversary now turned into a brother. Margaret
was conveyed into Scotland with the utmost pomp, and Edinburgh roused
itself and put on decorations like a bride to receive the little maiden,
so strangely young to be the centre of all these rejoicings: her lofty
houses covered with flutterings of tapestries and banners and every kind
of gay decoration, and her windows filled with bright faces, coifs, and
veils, and embroideries of gold that shone in the sun. The dress worn by
James, as he carried his young bride into Edinburgh seated on horseback
behind him, is fully described for the benefit of after ages. He wore a
jacket of cloth of gold bordered with purple velvet, over a doublet of
purple satin, showing at the neck the collar of a shirt embroidered with
pearls and gold, with scarlet hose to complete the resplendent costume.
At his marriage he wore a jacket of crimson satin over a doublet of
cloth of gold, with the same scarlet hose, and a gown of white damask
brocaded with gold over all. No doubt the ladies were not behind in this
contest of brave apparel. Grey Edinburgh, accustomed this long time to
the dull tones of modern habiliments, sparkled and shone in those days
of finery and splendour. The streets were meant for such fine shows; its
stairheads and strong deep doorways to relieve the glories of sweet
colour, plumes, and jewels. When the lists were set on the summit of the
hill, the gates thrown up, the garrison in their steel caps and
breastplates lining the bars, and perhaps the King himself tilting in
the melee, while all the ladies were throned in their galleries like
banks of flowers, what a magnificent spectacle! The half-empty streets
below still humming with groups of gazers not able to squeeze among the
throngs about the bars, but waiting the return of the splendid
procession: and more and more banners and tapestries and guards of
honour shining through the wide open gates of the port all the way down
to Holyrood. There was nothing but holiday-making and pleasure while the
feasting lasted and the brid