them by an avenue of tall trees, is a
spacious bowling-green. Again changing our position, we discover, on the
south of the gardens, and connected with the state apartments, a long
ambulatory, called the Stone Gallery. Then returning to our first post
of observation, and taking a bird's-eye view of the whole, after
examining it in detail, as before mentioned, we come to the conclusion,
that, though irregular in the extreme, and with no pretension whatever
to plan in its arrangement, the Palace of Whitehall is eminently
picturesque, and imposing from its vast extent. If taken in connection
with Westminster Hall, the Parliament House, and the ancient Abbey--with
the two towering gateways, on one of which we, ourselves, are
perched--with the various structures appertaining to it, and skirting
Saint James's Park, and with the noble gothic cross at Charing, we are
fain to acknowledge, that it constitutes a very striking picture.

CHAPTER IX.

Prince Charles.

There is now great stir within the palace, and its principal court is
full of horsemen, some of them apparelled in steel, and with their
steeds covered with rich trappings, and all attended by pages and yeomen
in resplendent liveries. Besides these, there are trumpeters in crimson
cassocks, mounted on goodly horses, and having their clarions adorned
with silken pennons, on which the royal arms are broidered. Then there
are kettle-drummers and other musicians, likewise richly arrayed and
well mounted, and the various pages, grooms, and officers belonging to
the Prince of Wales, standing around his charger, which is caparisoned
with white and gold.

Distinguishable even amidst this brilliant and knightly throng is Sir
Jocelyn Mounchensey. Mounted upon a fiery Spanish barb, presented to him
by the Conde de Gondomar, he is fully equipped for the jousts. The
trappings of his steed are black and white velvet, edged with silver,
and the plumes upon his helmet are of the same colours, mingled. He is
conversing with the Spanish Ambassador, who, like all the rest, is
superbly attired, though not in armour, and is followed by a crowd of
lacqueys in jerkins and hose of black satin, guarded with silver.

An unusual degree of bustle proclaims the approach of some personage of
extraordinary importance.

This is soon made known to be the Marquis of Buckingham. His arrival is
announced by loud flourishes from the six mounted trumpeters by whom he
is preceded. Their horses