A short distance east of St. Albans is Hatfield, and in a fine park in
the suburbs stands the magnificent mansion of the Marquis of
Salisbury--Hatfield House. The place is ancient, though the house is
completely modern. The manor was given by King Edgar to the monastery at
Ely, and, as in course of time the abbot became a bishop, the manor
afterwards became known as Bishops Hatfield, a name that it still bears.
The oldest portion of the present buildings was erected in the reign of
Henry VII., and in the time of his successor it passed into possession
of the Crown. Here lived young Edward VI., and he was escorted by the
Earl of Hertford and a cavalcade of noblemen from Hatfield to London for
his coronation. The youthful king granted Hatfield to his sister
Elizabeth, and here she was kept in Queen Mary's reign after her release
from the Tower. She was under the guardianship of Sir Thomas Pope when,
in November, 1558, Queen Mary died, and Sir William Cecil sent
messengers from London to apprise Elizabeth that the crown awaited her.
We are told that when they arrived the princess was found in the park,
sitting under a spreading oak--a noble tree then, but time has since
made sad havoc with it, though the remains are carefully preserved as
one of the most precious memorials at Hatfield. The family of Cecil,
thus introduced to Hatfield, was destined to continue associated with
its fortunes. Sir William came to the manor on the next day, and then
peers and courtiers of all ilks flocked thither to worship the rising
sun. On the following day the queen gave her first reception in the hall
and received the fealty of the leading men of every party; but she did
not forget Cecil, for her earliest act was to appoint him her chief
secretary, lord treasurer, and adviser--a tie that continued for forty
years and was only sundered by death. Cecil was afterwards made Lord
Burghley, and the confidence thus first reposed in him within the hall
that was afterwards to become the home of his descendants was most
remarkable. "No arts," writes Lord Macaulay, "could shake the confidence
which she reposed in her old and trusty servant. The courtly graces of
Leicester, the brilliant talents and accomplishments of Essex, touched
the fancy, perhaps the heart, of the woman, but no rival could deprive
the treasurer of the place which he possessed in the favor of the queen.
She sometimes chid him sharply, but he was the man whom she delighted to
honor. For Burghley she forgot her usual parsimony, both of wealth and
dignities; for Burghley she relaxed that severe etiquette to which she
was unreasonably attached. Every other person to whom she addressed her
speech, or on whom the glance of her eagle eye fell, instantly sank on
his knee. For Burghley alone a chair was set in her presence, and there
the old minister, by birth only a plain Lincolnshire esquire, took his
ease, while the haughty heirs of the Fitzalans and De Veres humbled
themselves to the dust around him. At length, having survived all his
early coadjutors and rivals, he died, full of years and honors."
[Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH'S OAK, HATFIELD.]
[Illustration: HATFIELD HOUSE.]
But it was not until after his death that Hatfield came into possession
of his family. He built Burghley House near Stamford in Lincolnshire,
and left it to his younger son, Sir Robert Cecil. After Elizabeth's
death, King James I. expressed a preference for Burghley over Hatfield,
and an exchange was made by which Hatfield passed into possession of Sir
Robert, who had succeeded his father as chief minister, and, though in
weak health and of small stature, was a wise and faithful servant of the
queen and of her successor. In Elizabeth's last illness, when she
persisted in sitting propped up on a stool by pillows, he urged her to
rest herself, and inadvertently said she "must go to bed." The queen
fired up. "Must!" cried she. "Is _must_ a word to be addressed to
princes? Little man, little man, thy father if he had been alive durst
not have used that word." Sir Robert did not survive the queen many
years, and to him King James's peaceful succession to the throne is said
to have been greatly due. The king made him the Earl of Salisbury, and
the title descended for several generations, until, in 1773, the seventh
earl was promoted to the rank of marquis, and now Robert Cecil, the
third Marquis of Salisbury and one of the leaders of the Conservative
party, presides over the estates at Hatfield. The chief entrance to
Hatfield House is on the northern side, and above it rises a cupola. The
buildings form three sides of an oblong, the longer line fronting the
north and the two wings pointing towards the south. They are of brick,
with stone dressings and facings, and are admired as a faithful example
of the excellent domestic architecture of the early part of the
seventeenth century. The approach through the park from the town is of
great beauty, the grand avenue, bordered by stately trees, conducting
the visitor to a court in front of the house enclosed by a balustrade
with handsome gates. Within the building the most remarkable features
are the galleries, extending along the entire southern front. The
gallery on the ground floor was formerly a corridor, open on one side
to the air; but at a comparatively recent period this has been enclosed
with glass, and thus converted into a gallery paved with black and white
marble, and ornamented with arms and armor, some being trophies from the
Armada and others from the Crimea. Here is the rich saddle-cloth used on
the white steed that Queen Elizabeth rode at Tilbury. There are a fine
chapel and attractive state-apartments, but around the old house there
lingers a tale of sorrow. The western wing was burned in 1835, and the
dowager marchioness, the grandmother of the present marquis, then five
years old, perished in the flames, which originated in her chamber. This
wing has been finely restored, and the room in which she was burned
contains her portrait, an oval medallion let into the wall over the
fireplace. It is the sweet and sunny face of a young girl, and her
tragic fate in helpless age reminds of Solon's warning as we look at the
picture: "Count no one happy till he dies." In the gallery at Hatfield
are portraits of King Henry VIII. and all six of his wives. In the
library, which is rich in historical documents, is the pedigree of Queen
Elizabeth, emblazoned in 1559, and tracing her ancestry in a direct line
back to Adam! The state bedrooms have been occupied by King James,
Cromwell, and Queen Victoria. In the gardens, not far from the house, is
the site of the old episcopal palace of Bishops Hatfield, of which one
side remains standing, with the quaint gatehouse now used as an avenue
of approach up the hill from the town to the stables. There is a fine
view of the town through the ancient gateway. Here lived the princess
Elizabeth, and in the halls where kings have banqueted the marquis's
horses now munch their oats. Immediately below, in the town, is
Salisbury Chapel, in which repose the bones of his ancestors.
[Illustration: THE CORRIDOR, HATFIELD.]
Also in Hertfordshire are Cassiobury, the seat of the Earls of Essex,
whose ancestor, Lord Capel, who was beheaded in 1648 for his loyalty to
King Charles I., brought the estate into the family by his marriage with
Elizabeth Morison; and Knebworth, the home of Lord Lytton the novelist,
which has been the home of his ancestors since the time of Henry VII.,
when it was bought by Sir Robert Lytton. The "Great Bed of Ware" is one
of the curiosities of the county--a vast bed twelve feet square,
originally at the Saracen's Head Inn. It was built for King Edward IV.,
and was curiously carved, and has had a distinguished place in English
literary allusions. The bed still exists at Rye House in Hertfordshire,
where it was removed a few years ago. A dozen people have slept in it at
the same time.
[Illustration: VIEW THROUGH OLD GATEWAY, HATFIELD.]