This noble seat has been incidentally noticed in the preceding pages.[77]
Although the Princess Elizabeth was kept a prisoner at Hatfield, she
occasionally went to London to pay her court to Queen Mary; and in 1556
she was invited to court, and proceeded thither with great parade.
Elizabeth, however, preferred the quiet and pleasant scenery of
Hatfield. The hall of the old palace now accommodates about thirty
horses. The combination of old trees, the rich-coloured brickwork, and
the curiously-wrought ironwork of the flower-garden gate, independent of
its historical associations, forms a pleasing scene.
The noble park is eleven miles in circuit: here the new house, finished,
in 1611, by Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, comes boldly to view. The river
Lea passes through the park. Nor far from the house are a racket-court
and riding-school, both large buildings: near here is an ancient oak of
extraordinary size, called the "Lion oak," a venerable tree, which,
although deprived of many branches, is still crowned by large masses of
green foliage and numerous acorns, is upwards of thirty feet in
circumference, and reputed a thousand years old.
A long and noble avenue of trees, with sunlight glistening on the grey
mossy trunks and boughs, leads to the kitchen-garden. Here is an old
oak, now much stunted, under which the Princess Elizabeth was sitting
when the messengers brought to her the news of Queen Mary's death, and
saluted her as Queen. With pomp, and amid great rejoicing, Queen
Elizabeth progressed to London--a journey accomplished with much greater
trouble three hundred years since than at present. Decayed parts of this
historical oak, the "Lion oak," and some others, have been, from time to
time, covered with _cement_; and this has not only had the effect of
stopping the progress of destruction, but also been the means of
producing both new wood and vegetation.
At the further end of the avenue just mentioned is a building of two or
three centuries old, but which has been much disguised by alterations:
it is now used as the gardener's lodge. Through this we reach the
vineyard,--a curious example of the trim gardening of former days. From
a terrace a bank descends by a deep gradient to the river Lea. On the
upper portion of the terrace are yew-trees planted at intervals, and
dressed into singular shapes; in other parts the yew-trees are so cut,
that up to a considerable height they seem as straight and solid as a
wall: openings are left here and there which lead to dark avenues,
cunningly formed by the arching of the branches. From the centre a broad
flight of steps, covered with turf, leads to the Lea. On the opposite
side of the river, an opening has been made in the trees, which shows a
picture that stretches away in long perspective. Descending the steps,
and looking upward, the view is very striking, and we perceive that the
design is intended to imitate a fortress, with its towers of defence,
loopholes, and battlements,--in fact, vegetation is made to assume an
architectural form, which has an extraordinary effect. The vineyard is
admirably kept.[78]
Of the many fine ancestral mansions in England, Hatfield, the seat of
the Marquis of Salisbury, is, perhaps, the most interesting for its
historical documents, and other illustrations of English history. Here
are preserved the forty-two articles of Edward VI., with the
superscription of that pious Monarch; the first Council Book of Queen
Mary; Cardinal Wolsey's Instructions to the Ambassador sent to the Pope
by Henry VIII., with that eminent churchman's autograph; the original
draft of the Proclamation Secretary Cecil used at the Accession of James
I.; and a very amusing Pedigree of Queen Elizabeth, emblazoned (dated
1559), by which the ancestry of that Sovereign is exhibited as traced to
Adam. Here also are several manuscript letters of Elizabeth, and the
celebrated Cecil Papers; the cradle of Elizabeth, of oak, ornamented
with carving, decidedly Elizabethan; also James I.'s purse, and the
first pair of silk stockings introduced into England, worn by Queen
Elizabeth.
[Illustration: "QUEEN ELIZABETH'S OAK," IN HATFIELD PARK.]
In the long gallery of the mansion is a state chair, said to have been
used by Queen Elizabeth; and in a black cabinet is preserved a hat with
a broad circular brim, which, we are told, was worn by the Princess
Elizabeth, when seated under the oak in the park just mentioned. This
historical tree is inclosed by a dwarf fence. When Queen Victoria and
Prince Albert visited Hatfield, in 1846, Her Majesty was much interested
with this memorial oak; and, as a memento of her visit, had a small
branch lopped from the tree.
In each bedchamber of the mansion are wardrobes and closets carved in
the style of the reign of James I.; the carved mantelpieces are very
large; some supported by massive pillars entwined with flowers, others
supported by caryatides and figures. The bedsteads and much of the
furniture are of the same date as the other fittings. King James's
bed-room has the fittings, it is said, exactly as when the king last
used them: the hangings, of deep crimson, are profusely ornamented with
tassel-work and fringe; the quilted coverlid has wrought flowers in the
centre, and at the top of the bed are a royal crown, and other
ornaments. It should be mentioned that many of the rooms throughout
Hatfield House are fitted with woods of different kinds, and are named,
in consequence, "the Oak-room," "the Rose-room," "the Walnut-room," "the
Elm-room," &c. The chapel and a suite of ten rooms completed by the
present Marquis of Salisbury in the old baronial style, have panelling
of various woods, some being of oak, walnut, ash, sycamore, &c.
Among the historical pictures at Hatfield is Zucchero's famous portrait
of Queen Elizabeth:--She wears a robe embroidered with eyes and ears, a
favourite device of hers to express her ubiquitous and sleepless
intelligence; and not satisfied with the symbolic eyes and ears, she
grasps a rainbow, with the motto, "_Non sine sole Iris_."
In the recent exhibition of National Portraits at South Kensington
were nineteen portraits of Queen Elizabeth, wonderful examples of
her fantastic and execrable taste. "It was a bad time for the arts
of portraiture. The costume, in which the Queen led the taste of
both sexes, and was a keen critic of it after her fashion, was
over-laden, stiff, and unbecoming. The monstrous ruffs,
high-shouldered leg-of-mutton sleeves, long-pointed stomachers,
and broad-hipped Spanish fardingales of the women are not redeemed
from deformity by all their wealth of lace, embroidery, pearls,
and jewels; while the round hats of the men--their long-waisted
doublets, their hose, wide-swelling at the thigh, and tight to the
knee, would defy even a Titian to make them picturesque, in spite
of silk and satin and velvet, lace and slashes, ropes of pearl,
rich pendants, jewelled belts, and hatbands of goldsmiths' work.
There never was a time when foppery ran so rampant, and the Queen
was the worst of all in the bad taste and extravagance of her
attire. Melville, the Scottish Ambassador, tells us how she had
weeds of all countries, and would appear in a different one at
every audience--how she talked to him of millinery and
dress-making, hair and head tires, and seemed more anxious for his
opinion on such matters than on affairs of State. We have her
wardrobe books when she was 68, and find among her stores of
finery, exclusive of 99 State dresses, Coronation, mourning,
Parliament, and Garter robes, French gowns 102, round ditto 67,
loose ditto 100, kirtles 126, foreparts 136, petticoats 125,
cloaks 96, safeguards 13, jupes 43, doublets 85, lap mantles 18,
fans 27, pantofles 9. And we may see among her 19 pictures here
wonderful examples of her fantastic and execrable taste. The
Hatfield Zucchero looks true, but, after all, it is to the Hampton
Court picture of her at 16 that we turn with pleasure when she was
still King Edward's 'sweet sister Temperance,' and the docile
pupil of Roger Ascham in the pleasant shades of Ashridge, or
Hatfield, and not that withered, gray old woman, her mind heavy
with black and bloody memories, who sat on the cushions for ten
days and nights, and for the last 24 hours silent, staring on the
ground, with set tearless eyes, and her finger in her
mouth."--_Times_ journal.
In the collection at South Kensington, too, was the portrait of the man
who brought the news of Mary's death to Elizabeth at Hatfield, one of
her commanders in Scotland in 1547, and one of the many who supped once
too often with my Lord of Leicester, and died in 1570, after eating figs
at that table, where the wariest guests were careful only to taste the
same dishes as my lord ate of.
Among the pictures, which are hung through the house, are the portraits
of the great Lord Burghley, and his two sons; various portraits of Queen
Elizabeth and Queen Mary of England; and Queen Mary of Scotland, at the
age of sixteen. Here are the Earl of Leicester of Elizabeth's reign;
James I. and Charles I.; Philip of Spain: Van Tromp; the famous Charles
of Sweden, and Peter the Great of Russia; various members of the
Salisbury family; and the curious picture of Horselydown Fair, described
at pp. 254-258. In the Great Hall, which has a minstrels' gallery,
ornamented with carvings of figures and animals, heraldry, &c. are a
picture, life-size, of the white horse on which Queen Elizabeth rode at
Tilbury Fort: and ten large paintings of Adam and Eve.
The Lady Elizabeth kept her state at Hatfield with no small cost and
splendour. At a subsequent period, after her imprisonment at Woodstock,
her Highness obtained permission to reside once more at Hatfield, under
the guardianship of Sir Thomas Pope, who not only extended to her the
kindest care and most respectful attention, but devised, at his own
cost, sports and pastimes for her amusement. "The fetters in which he
held her," says Agnes Strickland, "were more like flowery wreaths flung
lightly around her, to attract her to a bower of royal pleasaunce, than
aught which might remind her of the stern restraint by which she was
surrounded during her incarceration in the Tower, and subsequent
sojourn at Woodstock." Thus, we read of maskings in the Great Hall at
Hatfield, banquets, and "the play of Holophernes," which Queen Mary
misliked.
When Queen Mary visited her sister at Hatfield, Elizabeth adorned her
great state chamber for Her Majesty's reception, with a sumptuous suite
of tapestry, representing the Siege of Antioch, and had a play performed
after supper, by the choir-boys of St. Paul's; at the conclusion of
which one of the children sang, and was accompanied on the virginals by
the Princess herself.
Hatfield, during Elizabeth's reign, remained vested in the crown. At her
decease, however, her successor, King James, exchanged it with Sir
Robert Cecil for the palace of Theobalds, and thenceforward Hatfield has
continued uninterruptedly in the possession of the noble family of
Salisbury. Sir Robert Cecil was styled by his royal mistress, Elizabeth,
"the staff of her declining age," and was so highly esteemed by King
James, that his Majesty created him successively Baron Cecil, Viscount
Cranbourne, and Earl of Salisbury; conferred on him the blue riband of
the Garter, and finally appointed him Lord High Treasurer of England.
About this period, his lordship laid the foundations of the present
mansion of Hatfield, which he finished in 1611, in a style of equal
splendour with that of Burghley, which his father had erected in the
preceding reign. The year after the completion of Hatfield, worn out by
the cares of state the Earl of Salisbury died at Marlborough, in
Wiltshire, on his way to London: he was interred in Hatfield Church,
under a stately monument. How striking an example does the closing year
of his life present! In his last illness, he was heard to say to Sir
William Cope: "Ease and pleasure quake to hear of death; but my life,
full of care and miseries, desireth to be dissolved."
He had some years previously (1603) addressed a letter to Sir James
Harrington, the poet, in nearly the same querulous tone: "Good Knight,"
saith the minister, "rest content, and give heed to one that hath
sorrowed in the bright lustre of a court, and gone heavily on even the
best seeming fair ground. 'Tis a great task to prove one's honesty, and
yet not mar one's fortune: you have tasted a little thereof in our
blessed Queen's time, who was more than a woman, and, in truth,
sometimes less than a woman. I wish I waited now in your
presence-chamber, with ease at my food, and rest in my bed. I am pushed
from the share of comfort, and know not where the winds and waves of a
court will bear me. I know it bringeth little comfort on earth; and he
is, I reckon, no wise man that looketh this way to heaven."
Hatfield is a very interesting seat, not only for its association with
the past, but for its presenting, at this moment, a picture of the
baronial life of two centuries and a half since. The Hall of the ancient
Palace remains; the historic Oak is preserved; the vineyard was in
existence when Charles I. was conveyed here a prisoner to the army, and
its famous yew walk is left; and the deer are still numerous. The
mansion has been restored to its pristine magnificence; the landscape
gardening is fine. The noble owner of Hatfield has devoted a portion of
his domains to the pastimes of the people; and on every occasion,
whether it be the reception of royalty, or the entertainment of the
toilers of the country, it is carried out in the generous spirit of
olden English hospitality. And this princely place lies within a score
of miles of the metropolis and its three million of people, who are
brought almost to the park gates within an hour's railway journey.