How well I remember one pleasant morning in September--more than two
years ago, I declare!--when a merry party of us, English and Americans,
met at the counting house of our noble friend, Mr. B----, to go from
thence to Hampton Court. It was in the city of London that we met.
This is entered from the town, which holds most of the parks and
palaces of royalty and the nobility, by an old, old gateway, called
Temple Bar. When the Queen is to pay a visit to the city, Temple Bar
gate is closed, and she must respectfully ask admittance of the lord
mayor, and he must graciously present the keys to her before she may
come in. The lord mayor is the real king of London, and takes
precedence of royalty in all processions in the city, as, for instance,
the funeral procession of the Duke of Wellington, after it passed
Temple Bar. All lord mayors are elected from the board of aldermen;
they serve but one year, during which time they live in a very handsome
residence, called "The Mansion House," and ride in a splendid, but
rather gaudy and old-fashioned coach--something such as you have seen
pictures of in the story of Dick Whittington.
Each new sovereign attends, with the court, a grand ball, given by the
lord mayor, at Guildhall; on which occasion there is always a
magnificent display, both on the part of the aristocracy and the
citizens.
Guildhall is a large building, where the aldermen and councilmen meet,
to transact business and eat good dinners. In the hall where balls and
great banquets are given stand two gigantic painted figures, called Gog
and Magog, which are very quaint and odd-looking, and I don't know how
many years old.
"But what," you will say, "has all this to do with Hampton Court?"
Well, we started from the city, a social, merry party, of five or six;
and, after laughing and chatting in a comfortable English railway
carriage, for a few minutes, arrived at the station, near the palace.
The old palace of Hampton Court stands on the northern bank of the
Thames, about twelve miles west of Hyde Park, and is situated in the
parish of Hampton, and county of Middlesex.
In the reign of Henry VIII., when the great prelate, Cardinal Wolsey,
was at the height of his power, he leased the old manor and manor-house
of the Knights-Hospitallers of Jerusalem, to whom it then belonged, for
the purpose of building a palace suitable to his rank and splendor. He
erected a structure so magnificent, and so far surpassing any of the
royal residences, that he quite overshot his mark, and roused the
jealousy of the king, who bluntly asked him what he, a priest, and a
butcher's son, meant by building for himself a palace handsomer than
any of his king's. Then the cunning Cardinal, putting the best face he
could on the matter, said that he had only been trying to build a
residence worthy of so great and glorious a monarch, and that Hampton
Court was at King Henry's service. The king jumped at the offer, but
in return bestowed upon Wolsey the old manor of Richmond, the favorite
residence of his father, Henry VII. It was observed, when the great
Cardinal was going home, after this interview with his royal master,
that he scowled and growled at his followers, and belabored the poor
mule that he rode most unmercifully.
So, by gift from Cardinal Wolsey, Hampton Court became the property of
the crown.
Edward VI. was born in this palace, and mostly resided here, during his
short, but happy reign. Gloomy Queen Mary and her false hearted
husband, Philip of Spain, spent their honey-moon, or rather
vinegar-moon, here. Queen Elizabeth here gave several great festivals,
and her successor, the mean and pedantic James I. held a great
religious conference in the privy-chamber,--he, the most immoderate of
bigots, sitting as _moderator_. Here he entertained some great French
princes at one time, very handsomely; every thing being on a royal
scale except the host. Here he lost his wife, Anne of Denmark, a very
respectable sort of a woman, much too good for him.
Charles I., with his queen and court, sought refuge at this place from
the plague, which was ravaging London. But there was another trouble
that came upon him from which he could not escape, even here. Death,
with his scythe, passed by the healthful shades of the country palace,
but the executioner with his axe was not to be evaded.
The Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, resided sometimes at this palace;
but his favorite daughter, Elizabeth, a very lovely woman, died here,
and after that, it was the saddest place in all the world to him.
Charles II., with his gay court, which hardly held one honest man, or
reputable woman, used to hold revels here; and stubborn James II.
resided here now and then, till he was driven by a roused people from
throne, palace, and country. William III. was very partial to Hampton
Court, and did much to improve and adorn it. His queen here performed
prodigious labors in the embroidery line, and kept her maids of honor
as hard at work on chair covers and bed curtains as though they were
poor seamstresses, toiling for their daily bread.
George II. and Queen Caroline were the last sovereigns who resided at
this palace. It is now only occupied by the officers and servants who
have charge of it, and some dowagers and poor women of rank, called in
England "decayed gentlewomen." To those ladies the queen allots
apartments, and they live very handsomely and comfortably, though I
should think they would have rather lonely times, amid the melancholy
grandeur and stillness of that deserted old palace.
Over the gateway by which we entered are carved the arms of Cardinal
Wolsey, with a Latin inscription, signifying "God is my help," a lying
motto, as his own words afterwards proved; for, when dying in disgrace,
he exclaimed, "If I had served my God half as faithfully as I have
served my king, He would not have given me over to my enemies in my old
age."
We went up the grand staircase, to the guard-chamber, and from thence
passed through several suites of noble rooms, hung with pictures and
ancient tapestry, with frescoed ceilings, and carved and gilded
cornices. The most interesting among the pictures are portraits of
famous people, kings, queens, princes, heroes, and beauties, of whom we
read in history.
But as there are more than a thousand paintings at Hampton Court, of
course I cannot stop to describe any of these, though about many I
could tell you very strange and romantic stories.
The most magnificent apartment in the palace, and one of the grandest
in the world, is the great hall, which is one hundred and six feet
long, forty wide, and sixty high. The roof is beautifully carved and
decorated with the royal arms and badges, the walls are hung with
costly tapestry, the windows are richly stained, and bear the arms and
pedigree of Henry VIII. and his six wives.
From this hall we passed through another splendid apartment, called
"the withdrawing room," down "the queen's staircase," into a court,
containing a pretty fountain, and from thence into the gardens. These
are very fine, but rather too stiffly and formally laid out to suit our
modern taste. I remember one narrow, gloomy alley, of boxwood, or yew,
called "Queen Mary's Walk," after bloody Mary, who used to take her
evening exercise here alone, marching slowly up and down in the waning
twilight, meditating, I fear, those frightful persecutions, rackings,
and burnings of the poor Protestants, and trying to steel her heart
against the womanly pity that would creep into it sometimes, in spite
of all the admonitions of Cardinal Pole and Bishop Gardiner, and the
counsels of her cruel husband.
The greatest curiosity of these gardens is a Hamburg grape-vine,
supposed to be the largest in the world. It alone fills a green-house
seventy-two feet long and thirty broad. It is itself one hundred and
ten feet long; and is thirty inches in circumference, three feet from
the ground. It often bears as many as two thousand five hundred
bunches.
From the green-house, we walked down to the Thames, and then returned
through a beautiful avenue of linden-trees, to the east part of the
palace, where there is a fountain and a basin containing gold and
silver fish. Then we whiled away another hour in the grounds, the
"Labyrinth," and under the noble chestnut and lime trees in the great
avenue, which is more than a mile in length, and then the golden day
was over!