rding to their rank and pretensions; all hot and fiery spirits,
eager to prove by their prompt attendance their desire to accept their
sovereign's invitation. The splendor of their attire seemed to demand
little increase from the bounty of the king, but nevertheless, fine
linen garments, rich purple robes, and superb mantles woven with gold,
were bestowed on each youthful candidate, thus strengthening the links
which bound him to his chivalric sovereign, by the gratification of his
vanity in addition to the envied honors of knighthood. As our tale
relates more to Scottish than to English history, we may not linger
longer on the affairs of South Britain than is absolutely necessary for
the clear comprehension of the situation of her far less flourishing
sister. Exciting therefore as was the scene enacted in Westminster,
descriptive as it was of the spirit of the age, we are compelled to give
it but a hasty glance, and pass on to events of greater moment.

Glorious, indeed, to an eyewitness, must have been the ceremony of
admitting these noble and valiant youths into the solemn mysteries and
chivalric honors of knighthood. On that day the Prince of Wales was
first dubbed a knight, and made Duke of Aquitaine; and so great was the
pressure of the crowd, in their eagerness to witness the ceremonial in
the abbey, where the prince hastened to confer his newly-received
dignity on his companions, that three knights were killed, and several
fainted from heat and exhaustion. Strong war-horses were compelled to
drive back and divide the pressing crowds, ere the ceremony was allowed
to proceed. A solemn banquet succeeded; and then it was that Edward,
whose energy of mind appeared completely to have annihilated disease and
weakness of frame, made that extraordinary vow, which it has puzzled
both historian and antiquary satisfactorily to explain. The matter of
the vow merely betrayed the indomitable spirit of the man, but the
manner seemed strange even in that age. Two swans, decorated with golden
nets and gilded reeds, were placed in solemn pomp before the king, and
he, with imposing fervor, made a solemn vow to the Almighty and the
swans, that he would go to Scotland, and, living or dead, avenge the
murder of Comyn, and the broken faith of the traitorous Scots. Then,
with that earnestness of voice and majesty of mien for which he was
remarkable, he adjured his subjects, one and all, by the solemn fealty
they had sworn to him, that if