The Tilt-yard at Whitehall, where the jousting was appointed to take
place, was situated on the westerly side of the large area in front of
the old Banqueting House (destroyed by fire soon after the date of this
history, and replaced by the stately structure planned by Inigo Jones,
still existing), and formed part of a long range of buildings
appertaining to the palace, and running parallel with it in a northerly
direction from Westminster, devoted to purposes of exercise and
recreation, and including the Tennis-court, the Bowling-alley, the
Manage, and the Cock-pit.
A succession of brick walls, of various heights, and surmounted by roofs
of various forms and sizes, marked the position of these buildings, in
reference to Saint James's Park, which they skirted on the side next to
King Street. They were mainly, if not entirely erected, in 1532 by Henry
VIII., when, after his acquisition from Wolsey, by forfeiture, of
Whitehall, he obtained by exchange from the Abbot and Convent of
Westminister all their uninclosed land contiguous to his newly-acquired
palace, and immediately fenced it round, and converted it into a park.
To a monarch so fond of robust sports and manly exercises of all kinds
as our bluff Harry, a tilt-yard was indispensable; and he erected one on
a grand scale, and made it a place of constant resort. Causing a space
of one hundred and fifty yards in length and fifty in width to be
inclosed and encircled by lofty walls, he fixed against the inner side
large scaffolds, containing two tiers of seats, partitioned from each
other like boxes in a theatre, for the accommodation of spectators. At
the southern extremity of the inclosure he reared a magnificent gallery,
which he set apart for his consort and the ladies in attendance upon
her. This was decorated with velvet, and hung with curtains of cloth of
gold. On grand occasions, when all the court was present, the whole of
the seats on the scaffolds, previously described, were filled with
bright-eyed beauties, whose looks and plaudits stimulated to deeds of
high emprise the knights, who styled themselves their "servants," and
besought "favours" from them in the shape of a scarf, a veil, a sleeve,
a bracelet, a ringlet, or a knot of ribands. At such times Henry himself
would enter the lists; and, in his earlier days, and before he became
too unwieldy for active exertion, no ruder antagonist with the lance or
sword could be found than he. Men indeed, existed in his days, very
different in hardihood of frame and personal strength from the silken
sybarites, enervated by constant riot and dissipation, who aped the
deeds of arms of their grandfathers in the time of James the First.
But the tilt-yard was by no means neglected by Elizabeth. This
lion-hearted queen encouraged a taste for chivalrous displays, and took
almost as much delight in such exhibitions as her stalwart sire. During
her long reign no festivity was thought complete unless jousting was
performed. The name of the gallant Sir Philip Sidney need only be
mentioned, to show that she possessed at least one perfect "mirror of
chivalry" amongst her courtiers; but her chief favourites, Essex and
Leicester, were both distinguished for knightly prowess. Many a lance
was splintered by them in her honour. When the French Embassy arrived in
London to treat of a marriage between Elizabeth and the Duc d'Anjou, and
when a grand temporary banqueting-house, three hundred and thirty feet
long, and covered with canvas, was improvised for the occasion, a
magnificent tournament was given in the tilt-yard in honour of the
distinguished visitors. Old Holinshed tells us, that--"the gallery or
place at the end of the tilt-yard, adjoining to her Majesty's house at
Whitehall, where, as her person should be placed, was called, and not
without cause, the Castle or Fortress of Perfect Beauty, for as much as
her highness should be there included." And he also gives a curious
description of the framework used by the besiegers of the fortress.
"They had provided," he says, "a frame of wood, which was covered with
canvas, and painted outwardly in such excellent order, as if it had been
very natural earth or mould, and carried the name of a rolling-trench,
which went on wheels which way soever the persons within did drive it.
Upon the top thereof were placed two cannons of wood, so passing well
coloured, as they seemed to be, indeed, two fair field pieces of
ordnance; and by them were placed two men for gunners, clothed in
crimson sarcenet, with their baskets of earth for defence of their
bodies by them. And also there stood on the top of the trench an
ensign-bearer, in the same suit with the gunners, displaying his ensign,
and within the said trench was cunningly conveyed divers kinds of most
excellent music against the Castle of Beauty. These things thus all in
readiness, the challengers approached, and came down the stable toward
the tilt-yard." The challengers were the Earl of Arundel, Lord Windsor,
Sir Philip Sidney, and Sir Fulke Greville; and the defenders were very
numerous, and amongst them was the doughty Sir Harry Lee, who, as the
"unknown knight," broke "six staves right valiantly." All the speeches
made by the challengers and defenders are reported by Holinshed, who
thus winds up his description of the first day's triumph:--"These
speeches being ended, both they and the rest marched about the
tilt-yard, and so going back to the nether end thereof, prepared
themselves to run, every one in his turn, each defendant six courses
against the former challengers, who performed their parts so valiantly
on both sides, that their prowess hath demerited perpetual memory, and
worthily won honour, both to themselves and their native country, as
fame hath the same reported." And of the second day he thus
writes:--"Then went they to the tourney, where they did very nobly, as
the shivering of the swords might very well testify; and after that to
the barriers, where they lashed it out lustily, and fought courageously,
as if the Greeks and Trojans had dealt their deadly dole. No party was
spared, no estate excepted, but each knight endeavoured to win the
golden fleece, that expected either fame or the favour of his mistress,
which sport continued all the same day." These pageantries were of
frequent occurrence, and the pages of the picturesque old chronicler
above-cited abound with descriptions of them. Yet, in spite of the
efforts of Elizabeth to maintain its splendour undiminished, the star of
chivalry was rapidly declining, to disappear for ever in the reign of
her successor.
The glitter of burnished steel, the clash of arms, the rude encounter,
and all other circumstances attendant upon the arena of martial sport,
that had given so much delight to his predecessors, afforded little
pleasure to James; as how should they, to a prince whose constitutional
timidity was so great that he shuddered at the sight of a drawn sword,
and abhorred the mimic representations of warfare! Neither were the
rigorous principles of honour on which chivalry was based, nor the
obligations they imposed, better suited to him. Too faithless by nature
to adopt the laws of a Court of Honour, he derided the institution as
obsolete. Nevertheless, as trials of skill and strength in the tilt-yard
were still in fashion, he was compelled, though against his inclination,
to witness them, and in some degree to promote them. The day of his
accession to the throne--the 24th March--was always celebrated by
tilting and running at the ring, and similar displays were invariably
made in honour of any important visitor to the court.
Even in this reign something of a revival of the ancient ardour for
knightly pastimes took place during the brief career of Prince Henry,
who, if he had lived to fulfil the promise of his youth, would have
occupied a glorious page in his country's annals, and have saved it, in
all probability, from its subsequent convulsions and intestine strife.
Inuring himself betimes to the weight of armour, this young prince
became exceedingly expert in the use of all weapons--could toss the
pike, couch the lance, and wield the sword, the battle-axe, or the mace,
better than any one of his years. The tilt-yard and the tennis-court
were his constant places of resort, and he was ever engaged in robust
exercises--too much so, indeed, for a somewhat feeble constitution.
Prince Henry indulged the dream of winning back Calais from France, and
would no doubt have attempted the achievement if he had lived.
Of a more reflective cast of mind than his elder brother, and with
tastes less martial, Prince Charles still sedulously cultivated all the
accomplishments, proper to a cavalier. A perfect horseman, and well
skilled in all the practices of the tilt-yard--he was a model of
courtesy and grace; but he had not Prince Henry's feverish and consuming
passion for martial sports, nor did he, like him, make their pursuit the
sole business of life. Still, the pure flame of chivalry burnt within
his breast, and he fully recognised its high and ennobling principles,
and accepted the obligations they imposed. And in this respect, as in
most others, he differed essentially from his august father.
The tilt-yard, and the various buildings adjoining it, already
enumerated, were approached by two fine gates, likewise erected by Henry
VIII., one of which, of extraordinary beauty, denominated the Cock-pit
Gate, was designed by the celebrated painter, Hans Holbein. From an
authority we learn that it was "built of square stone, with small
squares of flint boulder, very neatly set; and that it had also
battlements, and four lofty towers, the whole being enriched with
bustos, roses, and portcullises." The other gate, scarcely less
beautiful, and styled the Westminster Gate, was adorned with statues and
medallions, and the badges of the royal house of Tudor carved in stone.
Viewed from the summit of one of the tall turrets of the Holbein Gate,
the appearance of the palace of Whitehall, at the period of our history,
was exceedingly picturesque and striking--perhaps more so than at any
previous or subsequent epoch, since the various structures of which it
was composed were just old enough to have acquired a time-honoured
character, while they were still in tolerable preservation.
Let us glance at it, then, from this point, and first turn towards the
great Banqueting House, which presents to us a noble and lengthened
façade, and contains within a magnificent and lofty hall, occupying
nearly its full extent, besides several other apartments of regal size
and splendour. In this building, in former days, with a retinue as
princely as that of the King himself, Wolsey so often and so sumptuously
entertained his royal master, that he at last provoked his anger by his
ostentation, and was bereft of his superb abode. Satisfied with our
examination of the Banqueting House, we will suffer our gaze to fall
upon the broad court beyond it, and upon the numerous irregular but
picturesque and beautiful structures by which that court--quadrangle it
cannot be called, for no uniformity is observed in the disposition of
the buildings--is surrounded. Here the eye is attracted by a confused
mass of roofs, some flat, turreted and embattled, some pointed, with
fantastical gables and stacks of tall chimneys--others with cupolas and
tall clock-towers--others with crocketed pinnacles, and almost all with
large gilt vanes. A large palace is a city in miniature; and so is it
with Whitehall. It has two other courts besides the one we are
surveying; equally crowded round with buildings, equally wanting in
uniformity, but equally picturesque. On the east it extends to Scotland
Yard, and on the west to the open space in front of Westminster Hall.
The state apartments face the river, and their large windows look upon
the stream.
Quitting the exalted position we have hitherto assumed, and viewing
Whitehall from some bark on the Thames, we shall find that it has a
stern and sombre look, being castellated, in part, with towers like
those over Traitor's Gate, commanding the stairs that approach it from
the river. The Privy Gardens are beautifully laid out in broad terrace
walks, with dainty parterres, each having a statue in the midst, while
there is a fountain in the centre of the inclosure. In addition to the
gardens, and separated from them by an avenue of tall trees, is a
spacious bowling-green. Again changing our position, we discover, on the
south of the gardens, and connected with the state apartments, a long
ambulatory, called the Stone Gallery. Then returning to our first post
of observation, and taking a bird's-eye view of the whole, after
examining it in detail, as before mentioned, we come to the conclusion,
that, though irregular in the extreme, and with no pretension whatever
to plan in its arrangement, 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.