making extensive alterations in the buildings; the Great Hall as it now
appears was his work. Having a taste for art,[#] he employed Holbein,
many of whose works are now at Hampton Court. Items of the expenses of
building have come down to us. Thus in 1527, from February 26 to March
25, there was paid to the Freemason builders, to the master, John
Molton, at 12d. per day, 6s.; to the warden, William Reynolds, at 5s.
the week, 20s.; to the setters, Nicholas Seyworth and three others, at
3s. 8d. per week, 13s. 8d.; to others, at 3s. 4d. the week, 13s. 4d.
Some of the workmen evidently took frequent holidays. The clerk of the
works had 8d. a day, and the writing clerks 6d. each.
[#] A superstition has been cherished from classical days that artistic
and literary culture softens and refines manners. Henry VIII. had both,
and yet what a brute, brutal in every respect, he was! Dr. Johnson was
another instance of bearishness coupled with learning; and Porson,
soaked though he was with Greek and Latin lore and wisdom, was a savage,
with whom no gentleman could associate for any length of time. _Emolliet
mores_, what a delusion!
The Great Hall was on many occasions during the reign of Henry VIII.
used for royal banquets, but as one banquet is very much like another,
the reader need not be wearied with a repetition of the one already
described: banquets mean eating and drinking, and undergoing the
wet-blanket of dreary speeches one day, and what the Germans elegantly
call 'pussy's lamentation' the next. In 1536 Henry married Jane
Seymour, and in the following year she died at Hampton Court, after
giving birth to Edward VI. On this occasion the English Bluebeard went
into mourning, and compelled the Court to do the same. Having been
married to Jane but seventeen months, he had probably not had time to
get tired of her. He actually remained a widower for some time, but
eventually, in order to strengthen the Protestant cause in England, at
the suggestion of Thomas Cromwell he married, much against his
inclination, the 'Flanders mare,' Anne of Cleves. In less than six
months he obtained a divorce from her, and sent Cromwell to the block.
Then in 1540 the ill-fated Catharine Howard was openly shown as the
future Queen at Hampton Court Palace, and the marriage performed with
great pomp and joyous celebrations. But in less than two years the
royal voluptuary cut off her head on account of faults she had committed
before knowing him. At Hampton Court also Henry married his last wife,
Lady Catherine Parr, who survived him, but her head was once in great
danger. She opposed the King on some religious question, and in great
wrath he ordered an impeachment to be drawn up against her; but she,
being warned of her danger, spoke so humbly of the foolishness of her
sex that when the Chancellor came to arrest her Henry ordered the
'beast' to be gone.
In 1538 Henry VIII., who was particularly fond of hunting, but who was
then so fat and unwieldy that he required special facilities for
following his favourite sport, and needed them close at hand, extended
his chase through fifteen parishes. These he kept strictly preserved
for his own use, and they were enclosed by a wooden paling, which was
removed after his death, the deer sent to Windsor, and the chase thrown
open.
During the Christmas of 1543, Henry VIII. entertained Francis Gonzaga,
the Viceroy of Sicily, at Hampton Court, and Edward VI. on this occasion
likewise presided, in puerile magnificence, over the table in the high
place of the hall, an occurrence over which grave historians grow quite
enthusiastic, whilst at the same time describing the splendour of the
entertainment. But after reading all this gush it is quite a relief to
come on a passage like the following, showing the seamy side of regal
pomp. It is from a curious old manuscript, containing some very
singular directions for regulating the household of Henry VIII.:
'His Highness' baker shall not put alum in the bread, or mix rye, oaten
or bean flour with the same, and if detected he shall be put in the
stocks. [This prohibition implies that the thing had been done, and by
the King's own highly-paid baker!] His Highness' attendants are not to
steal any locks or keys, tables, forms, cupboards, or other furniture
out of noblemen's or gentlemen's houses where they go to visit. [The
King's attendants must have been worse than modern burglars, who are not
known to steal tables and cupboards!] Master cooks shall not employ
such scullions as go about naked, or lie all night on the ground before
the kitchen fire. ["High life below stairs" was, it would seem, then in
its infancy with scullions going about naked!] The officers of his
privy chamber shall be loving together, no grudging or grumbling, nor
talking of the King's pastimes. [Fancy the officers of the privy
chamber, those grand gentlemen, having to be taught how to behave, and
not to indulge in shindies among themselves, nor, like a parcel of low
lackeys, to sit in judgment on their master's doings!] The King's
barber is enjoined to be cleanly, not to frequent the company of
misguided women, for fear of danger to the King's royal person. [A wise
King, knowing that his barber was given to such practices, would have
sent him to the deuce, and given up being shaved!] There shall be no
romping with the maids on the staircase, by which dishes and other
things are often broken. [The crockery being smashed was his Majesty's
chief concern in _this_ matter!] Care shall be taken that the pewter
spoons and the wooden ones used in the kitchen be not broken or stolen.
[What a lot of paltry thieves there must have been in the royal
household!] The pages shall not interrupt the kitchen maids. [Those
pages then, as now, must have been awful fellows!] The grooms shall not
steal his Highness' straw for beds, sufficient being allowed for them.
[How those grooms, who were, as we have seen, so busy in furnishing the
rooms with 280 beds of silk, must have enjoyed the straw they slept on!]
Coal only to be allowed to the King's, Queen's, and Lady Mary's
chambers. [Rather hard on the other inmates of the palace!] The
brewers are not to put any brimstone in the ale. [His Majesty did not
want to taste sulphur before his time!]'
When the Knights Hospitallers of St. John granted the lease of Hampton
Court to Cardinal Wolsey, they were on or before its expiry prepared to
renew it; but they never had the chance of doing so, for as in 1540
Henry VIII. suppressed all the monasteries and confiscated their
property, the Knights Hospitallers shared that fate, and Hampton Court
became royal property. On Henry's death the palace was chosen by the
guardians of Edward VI., then a minor, as his residence; he was placed
under the special care of his uncle, the Duke of Somerset, Protector of
the Council of Regency. But serious dissensions arose amidst the
Council, and it was proposed to deprive the Duke of his royal ward, and
an alarm having been given that this was to be done by force, the
household and the inhabitants of Hampton armed themselves for the
protection of the young King. The Protector, however, removed him to
Windsor Castle, lest the Council should obtain possession of his person.
In 1550 Edward and his attendants removed from London to Hampton Court,
in consequence of an alarm that the 'black death' had made its
appearance there--in fact, two of Edward's servants were said to have
died of it. In 1552 Edward held a chapter of the Order of the Garter at
Hampton Court Palace; the knights went to Windsor in the morning, but
returned to this palace in the evening, where they were royally feasted,
and where Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset, was created Duke of Suffolk,
and John Dudley, Earl of Warwick, Duke of Northumberland.
In 1553 Mary I. became Queen of England, and in the following year she
married Philip, son of the Emperor Charles and heir to the Spanish
crown. This alliance with the leading Catholic Power highly displeased
the English people, and, in fact, they soon began to feel the effects of
Mary's bigoted adherence to her own, the Roman Catholic, faith. She and
her husband passed their honeymoon in gloomy retirement at Hampton Court
in 1554, but in 1555 they kept their Christmas there with great
solemnity, and the Princess Elizabeth, the daughter of Anne Boleyn, was
invited as a guest, though there was little love between the two
sisters. At this Christmas festivity the great hall was illuminated
with 1,000 lamps. The Princess Elizabeth supped at the same table with
their Majesties, next the cloth of state, and after supper was served
with a perfumed napkin and plate of comfits by Lord Paget; but she
retired with her ladies before the revels, maskings, and disguisings
began. On St. Stephen's Day she was permitted to hear matins, or more
likely mass, in the Queen's closet, where, we are told, she was attired
in a robe of white satin, strung all over with large pearls. On
December 29 she sat with their Majesties and the nobility at a grand
spectacle of jousting, when 200 lances were broken, half the combatants
being accoutred as Germans and half as Spaniards.
At her accession to the throne Elizabeth made Hampton Court one of her
favourite residences; it was the most richly furnished, and here she
caused her naval victories over the Spaniards to be worked in fine
tapestries. Here was the scene of her grand festivities, equalling in
splendour those of Henry VIII. Her ordinary dinner was a solemn affair.
Hentzner thus describes it: 'While she was at prayers, we saw her table
set in the following solemn manner: a gentleman entered the room,
bearing a rod, and along with him another, who had a tablecloth, which,
after they had both knelt down three times with the utmost veneration,
he spread upon the table, and, after kneeling again, they both retired.
[Oh, the contemptible flunkey souls of those days!] Then came two
others, one with the rod again, the other with a saltcellar, a plate,
and bread; when they had kneeled, as the others had done, and placed
what was brought upon the table, they then retired with the same
ceremonies performed by the first. At last came an unmarried lady (we
were told she was a Countess), and along with her a married one, bearing
a tasting knife, who, when she had prostrated herself three times in the
most graceful manner, approached the table and rubbed the plates with
bread and salt, with as much awe as if the Queen had been present. When
they had waited there a little while, the yeomen of the guard entered,
bareheaded, clothed in scarlet, with a golden rose upon their backs,
bringing in at each turn a course of twenty-four dishes, served in plate
most of it gilt; these dishes were received by a gentleman in the same
order they were brought and placed upon the table, while the lady taster
gave to each of the guard a mouthful to eat of the particular dish he
had brought, for fear of any poison. During the time that this guard,
which consists of the tallest and stoutest men that can be found in all
England, were bringing dinner, twelve trumpets and two kettle-drums made
the hall ring for half an hour together.' No wonder that the Maids of
Honour of Queen Elizabeth would, disguised as orange-girls, escape from
the purlieus of the palace, and frequent those of the theatres! The
tidings of the defeat of the Armada arrived on Michaelmas Day, and were
communicated to the Queen whilst she was at dinner at Hampton Court,
partaking of a goose; hence the origin of partaking of that savoury dish
on Michaelmas Day. Such is the tradition; but geese were eaten on that
day and about that time of the year before the Armada was dreamt of;
they are then eaten because then in the finest condition.
James I. took up his residence at Hampton Court soon after his arrival
in England, and here in 1604 took place, not revels and masques, but a
conference of Presbyterians and the members of the Established Church;
it lasted three days, and its result was the translation of the Bible,
'appointed to be read in churches.' But even his 'Sowship' James I.,
who prided himself on his learning and theological knowledge, was
satisfied with a three days' conference on so important a question as
was involved in his favourite axiom, 'No Bishop, no King,' but when it
came to feasting he wanted more time. When in 1606 he entertained
Francis, Prince of Vaudemont, son of the Duke of Lorraine, and the
noblemen and gentlemen who accompanied him, the feasting and pastimes
occupied fourteen days. Queen Anne, the wife of James I., died at the
palace of Hampton Court in 1618, and was interred in Westminster Abbey.
Charles I., on his marriage with Henrietta Maria, daughter of Henry IV.
of France, here spent the honeymoon, and the plague then raging in
London (1625) kept the royal pair and the Court, which had followed
them, some time longer at Hampton Court. Here the King gave audience to
the ambassadors of France and Denmark, as also to an envoy from Gabor,
Prince of Transylvania.[#] In 1641, when the strife between the two
great political parties--the Cavaliers, siding with the King, and the
Roundheads, or the great mass of farmers, merchants, and shopkeepers,
the Tories and Whigs of the future--was at its height, the London
apprentices, then formidable engines of radical faction, became so
threatening in their conduct towards the Court that Charles retired to
Hampton Court for a time. But the King's fate could not be averted, and
in 1647 he was again brought to Hampton Court by the army, and kept
there, not in actual imprisonment, but under restraint, to November 11,
when he made his escape. John Evelyn, in his 'Diary,' records a visit
he paid Charles on October 10 in these words: 'I came to Hampton Court,
where I had the honour to kiss His Majesty's hand, he being now in the
power of those execrable villains, who not long after murdered him.'
[#] In 1621 he had been elected King of Hungary, but afterwards had to
resign that dignity for the inferior one mentioned above.
After the King's execution, the fine collections of art which once
decorated the walls of Hampton Court were scattered abroad, and now form
the choicest treasures of foreign and private galleries, and the
honour[#] of Hampton Court and the palace were sold in 1651 to a Mr.
John Phelps, a member of the House of Commons, for the sum of L10,765
19s. 9d.; but in 1656 Oliver Cromwell, enriched by the wreck of the
State, again acquired possession of the palace, for which he had a great
predilection, and consequently made it his chief residence. The
marriage ceremonies of Elizabeth, daughter of Cromwell, with Lord
Falconberg were performed here on November 18, 1657, and in the
following year the Protector's favourite daughter, Mrs. Claypole, who
disapproved of her father's doings, here breathed her last. Hither
Cromwell would repair, when Lord Protector of the realm, to dine with
his officers. Thurloe thus records the fact: 'Sometimes, as the fit
takes him, he dines with the officers of his army at Hampton Court, and
shows a hundred antic tricks, as throwing cushions at them, and putting
hot coals into their pockets and boots. At others, before he has half
dined, he gives orders for a drum to beat, and calls in his foot-guards
to snatch off the meat from the table and tear it in pieces, with many
other unaccountable whimsies.... Now he calls for his guards, with whom
he rides out, encompassed behind and before ... and at his return at
night shifts from bed to bed for fear of surprise.' He was constantly
attended by a dog, who guarded his bedroom door. One morning he found
the dog dead. He then remembered the prediction a gipsy had made to
Charles I., that on the death of a dog in a room the King was then in,
the kingdom he was about to lose would be restored to his family. 'The
kingdom is departed from me!' cried Cromwell, and he died soon after.
[#] Hampton Court had been erected into an honour when it became the
property of Henry VIII. An honour in law is a lordship, on which
inferior lordships and manors depend by performance of customs and
services. But no lordships were honours but such as belonged to the
King.
After the Restoration the palace, which of course reverted to the Crown,
was occasionally occupied by Charles II. Here he spent his honeymoon on
his marriage with Catherine of Braganza. He had married her for money;
he received with her a dowry of half a million, besides two
fortresses--Tangier in Morocco and Bombay in Hindostan. He soon
neglected her for Lady Castlemaine and hussies of her character. Pepys,
indeed, under May 81, 1662, records: 'The Queen is brought a few days
since to Hampton Court, and all people say of her to be a very fine and
handsome lady, and very discreet, and that the King is pleased enough
with her, which I fear will put Madame Castlemaine's nose out of joint.'
But Pepys was a bad prognosticator on this matter. The unhappy Queen,
neglected and forgotten, spent most of her time in a small building
which overlooked the river Thames, and was considered a sort of summer
residence. It was known by the name of the Water Gallery, and occupied
the site in front of what is now the southern facade of King William's
quadrangle, on whose erection the Water Gallery was entirely removed.
When the great plague of 1665 spread westward in the Metropolis, the
'merry monarch' and his suite again retired to Hampton Court, where,
like Boccaccio's Florentines under a similar calamity, they sought
oblivion of fear in a continual succession of festivities. Persons who
are curious on such matters will find an amusing account of those doings
in the autobiography of Sir Ralph Esher, edited by Leigh Hunt.
Pepys, it appears, paid frequent visits to Hampton Court, but was, it
seems, not always well treated. Thus, on July 23, 1665, he writes: 'To
Hampton Court, where I followed the King to chapel and heard a good
sermon.... I was not invited any whither to dinner, though a stranger,
which did also trouble me; but' (he adds philosophically) 'I must
remember it is a Court.... However, Cutler carried me to Mr.
Marriott's, the housekeeper, and there we had a very good dinner and
good company, among others Lilly, the painter.' Pepys was easily
consoled for the snub the 'quality' treated him to.
James II. also occasionally visited Hampton Court, but the palace was
neglected, and did not actually again become a royal residence till the
accession of William III. and Queen Mary. He, as we have already
mentioned on a former occasion, made the palace what it now is by
pulling down the buildings erected by Henry VIII., and covering the site
with the present Fountain Court and the State apartments surrounding it.
According to a drawing by Hollar, showing Hampton Court as furnished by
Henry VIII., the eastern front was really picturesque, and agreed
perfectly with the architectural features of Wolsey's building. Still,
according to the notions of the seventeenth century, the apartments were
not suitable for a royal residence, especially as William intended to
make it a permanent and not a merely temporary one. Moreover, the King
took a personal pleasure in building and planting and decorating his
residence. He determined to create another Loo on the banks of the
Thames. A wide extent of ground was laid out in formal walks and
parterres; limes, thirty years old, were transplanted from neighbouring
woods to make shady alleys. The new court rose under the direction of
Wren, and with it the grand eastern and southern fronts. It is said
that the King once entertained the idea of erecting an entirely new
palace at the west end of the town of Hampton on an elevation distant
about half a mile from the river Thames, but the design was abandoned
from a consideration of the length of time necessary for such an
undertaking. Horace Walpole informs us that Sir Christopher Wren
submitted another design for the alterations of the ancient palace in a
better taste, which Queen Mary wished to have executed; but she was
overruled. The same authority says: 'This palace of King William seems
erected in emulation of what is intended to imitate the pompous edifices
of the French monarch.'
Unfortunately for William, he found after a time that Hampton Court was
too far from the Houses of Lords and Commons and the public offices, but
being unable to stand the impure air of London, he took up his residence
at Kensington House, which was then quite in the country. But he
frequently visited Hampton Court, and it was there he met with the
accident which caused his death. On February 20, 1702, he was ambling
on a favourite horse named Sorrel through the park. He urged the horse
to strike into a gallop just at a spot where a mole had been at work.
The horse stumbled and went down on his knees; the King fell off and
broke his collar-bone. The bone was set, and the King returned to
Kensington in his coach; but the jolting of the rough roads made it
necessary to reduce the fracture again. He never recovered the double
shock to the system, and fever supervening, he died a few days
subsequently.
The Princess of Denmark, afterwards Queen Anne, in this palace gave
birth on July 24, 1689, to the Duke of Gloucester, who died at eleven
years of age, and thus made room for the House of Brunswick. Anne
occasionally resided here after her accession to the throne.
The Great Hall had in Queen Elizabeth's time been used as a theatre; it
was fitted up for a similar purpose by George I. in 1718. It was
intended that plays should have been acted there twice a week during the
summer season by the King's company of comedians, but the theatre was
not ready till nearly the end of September, and only seven plays were
performed in it in that season. The first play, acted on September 23,
was 'Hamlet.' On October 1, curiously enough, 'Henry VIII., or the Fall
of Wolsey,' was represented on the very spot which had been the scene of
his greatest splendour, recalling the events of the life of the founder
of the princely pile. The King paid the charges of the representation
and the travelling expenses of the actors, amounting to L50 a night,
besides which he made a present of L200 to the managers for their
trouble. It was never afterwards used but once for a play, performed on
October 16, 1731, for the entertainment of the Duke of Lorraine,
afterwards Emperor of Germany; but the fittings were not removed till
the year 1798.
In 1829 the parish of Hampton obtained permission of George IV. to fit
up the hall for divine service during the rebuilding of Hampton Church,
and it was so used for about two years.
George II. but seldom visited Hampton Court, and George III. preferred
Kew Palace. From his time no Sovereign has occupied Hampton Court as a
royal residence.
On November 4, 1793, Richard Tickell, a political writer, who had
apartments in Hampton Court Palace, had been accustomed to sit and read
on a parapet wall or kind of platform in one of the upper rooms. The
spot was filled with flower-pots. On the day in question, while his
carriage was waiting to take him and his family to town, his wife having
left him for a moment, on her return missed him, and going to the open
window, saw her husband lying in the garden below on the ground. Before
she could reach him, he had expired. How the accident happened can
never be known. He was said to have committed suicide, but there was no
assignable reason for such an act.
The famous vine at Hampton Court, the largest in Europe, was planted
from a slip in the year 1768. Its fruit, the black Hamburg kind, is
reserved exclusively for the Queen's table. The writer of a 'Tour of
England,' in 1798, says: 'In these gardens is a most remarkably large
vine.... The gardener told me 1,550 bunches of grapes are now hanging
upon it, the whole weight of which is estimated at 972 cwt.' It bears
the same number of bunches, that is, from 1,500 to 2,000, now.