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 are caparisoned with orange-coloured taffeta, while they themselves are habited in gaberdines of the same stuff.  After the trumpeters come four gentlemen ushers, and four pages, mounted on his spare horses, and habited in orange-coloured doublets and hose, with yellow plumes in their caps.  To them succeed the grooms in mandilions, or loose sleeveless jackets, leading the Marquis’s charger, which is to run in the lists—­a beautiful dark bay jennet—­trapped with green velvet, sewn with pearls, and pounced with gold.  Next comes Buckingham himself, in a magnificent suit of armour, engraved and damaskeened with gold, with an aigret of orange feathers nodding on his casque.  Thus apparelled, it is impossible to imagine a nobler or more chivalrous figure than he presents.  Though completely cased in steel, his magnificent person seems to have lost none of its freedom of movement, and he bears himself with as much grace and ease as