The great influx of foreign knights who had come in their splendor
from all parts of Christendom to take part in the opening of the
Round Tower of Windsor six years before, and to try their luck and
their skill at the tournament connected with it, had deeply
modified the English fashions of dress. The old tunic, over-tunic
and cyclas were too sad and simple for the new fashions, so now
strange and brilliant cote-hardies, pourpoints, courtepies,
paltocks, hanselines and many other wondrous garments,
parti-colored or diapered, with looped, embroidered or escalloped
edges, flamed and glittered round the King. He himself, in black
velvet and gold, formed a dark rich center to the finery around
him. On his right sat the Prince, on his left the Bishop, while
Dame Ermyntrude marshaled the forces of the household outside,
alert and watchful, pouring in her dishes and her flagons at the
right moment, rallying her tired servants, encouraging the van,
hurrying the rear, hastening up her reserves, the tapping of her
oak stick heard everywhere the pressure was the greatest.
Behind the King, clad in his best, but looking drab and sorry amid
the brilliant costumes round him, Nigel himself, regardless of an
aching body and a twisted knee, waited upon his royal guests, who
threw many a merry jest at him over their shoulders as they still
chuckled at the adventure of the bridge.
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