that might either animate or awe, according to the mood of the
spectator. The king's barge, with many lesser craft reserved for the
use of the courtiers, gay with awnings and streamers and painting and
gilding, lay below the wharfs, not far from the gate of St. Thomas, now
called the Traitor's Gate. On the walk raised above the battlemented
wall of the inner ward, not only paced the sentries, but there dames and
knights were inhaling the noonday breezes, and the gleam of their rich
dresses of cloth-of-gold glanced upon the eye at frequent intervals from
tower to tower. Over the vast round turret, behind the Traitor's Gate,
now called "The Bloody Tower," floated cheerily in the light wind the
royal banner. Near the Lion's Tower, two or three of the keepers of the
menagerie, in the king's livery, were leading forth, by a strong chain,
the huge white bear that made one of the boasts of the collection, and
was an especial favourite with the king and his brother Richard. The
sheriffs of London were bound to find this grisly minion his chain and
his cord, when he deigned to amuse himself with bathing or "fishing" in
the river; and several boats, filled with gape-mouthed passengers, lay
near the wharf, to witness the diversions of Bruin. These folks set up
a loud shout of--"A Warwick! a Warwick!" "The stout earl, and God
bless him!" as the gorgeous barge shot towards the fortress. The earl
acknowledged their greeting by vailing his plumed cap; and passing the
keepers with a merry allusion to their care of his own badge, and a
friendly compliment to the grunting bear, he stepped ashore, followed
by his kinsman. Now, however, he paused a moment; and a more thoughtful
shade passed over his countenance, as, glancing his eye carelessly aloft
towards the standard of King Edward, he caught sight of the casement in
the neighbouring tower, of the very room in which the sovereign of his
youth, Henry the Sixth, was a prisoner, almost within hearing of the
revels of his successor; then, with a quick stride, he hurried on
through the vast court, and, passing the White Tower, gained the royal
lodge. Here, in the great hall, he left his companion, amidst a group of
squires and gentlemen, to whom he formally presented the Nevile as his
friend and kinsman, and was ushered by the deputy-chamberlain (with an
apology for the absence of his chief, the Lord Hastings, who had gone
abroad to fly his falcon) into the small garden, where Edward was idlin