CHAPTER FIVE
THE TOWER OF LONDON
“I should think they’d call it ‘The Towers,’ instead of ‘The Tower,’” remarked Betty, surveying the curious, irregular jumble of buildings before her, as they left the bus.
“That’s true,” Mrs. Pitt agreed; “but I suppose the name was first given to the White Tower, which is the oldest part and was built by William the Conqueror as long ago as 1080. Why did they call it the White Tower? Well, I believe it was because they whitewashed the walls in the thirteenth century. Why, what’s the matter, John?”
“I want to see who those fellows in the funny red uniforms are,” John called back, as he ran ahead.
“I want to see who those fellows in the funny red uniforms are.”—Page [50].
When they reached the entrance, they saw John admiring a group of these “fellows,” who stood just inside the gate. In reality, they are old soldiers who have served the King well, and are therefore allowed to be the keepers and guides of the Tower. They bear the strange name of “beefeaters” (a word grown from the French “buffetiers”), and are very picturesque in their gorgeous scarlet uniforms, covered with gilt trimmings and many badges, a style of costume which these custodians have worn ever since the time of Henry VIII, and which was designed by the painter, Holbein.
Any one may pay sixpence for a ticket which entitles him to wander about the precincts of the Tower, and to see the “Crown Jewels,” and the armory, but Mrs. Pitt, being more ambitious for her young friends, had obtained a permit from the Governor of the Tower. This she presented to the “beefeater” who stood by the first gateway, after they had crossed the great empty moat. The old man stepped to a tiny door behind him, opened it, disclosing a small, winding stair, and called “Warder! Party, please!”