It is with the coming of William the Third and Mary to rule the
kingdom, a work for which James the Second had proved himself unfit,
that Hampton Court came to be formed as we know it now. King James
seems never to have stayed in the Palace after his accession, but his
daughter and her husband soon made of it a favourite and favoured
residence. It is to William and Mary that the Palace owes its
beautiful galleries and many of the art treasures in them. Calling to
his aid Sir Christopher Wren, King William resolved to rebuild a large
part of the great Tudor palace, and mould it nearer to his heart's
desire. A considerable part of the place was entirely demolished,
comprising the whole series of buildings around the Cloister Green
Court, and forming the south-eastern portion in which were the royal
rooms that formed the residential centre of the extensive palace.
Where this large part of the old edifice had been razed Wren erected,
in striking contrast to the Tudor portions left standing north and
west of it, the Renaissance building, which is probably remembered by
many visitors as the chief feature of Hampton Court. Contrasting
strongly with the earlier portions of the Palace the new fronts and
the beautiful Fountain Court yet do not clash with them, thanks to the
way in which the architect carried out his work.
While the new additions were being made to the Palace King William and
Queen Mary frequently stayed at Hampton Court, the Water Gallery--a
detached portion of the Tudor buildings standing on the riverside at
the end of what is now the Broad Walk--being furnished and decorated
to afford a temporary residence. Not only were the State Chambers
rebuilt in this reign, but the gardens were newly laid out and
planted--a work in which the Queen greatly interested herself. Despite
these vast changes yet more were contemplated, for Sir Christopher
Wren had planned a new approach and entrance on the north side. Her
Majesty did not live to occupy the State Apartments, and her death in
1694 delayed for several years the completion of the work. As for King
William, he, too, did not live long to enjoy his new palace, for
having come hither on 21 February, 1702, from Kensington Palace for a
day's hunting, his horse stumbled--presumably in Hampton Court
Park--throwing the King so that he broke his collar bone. William had
for some time been suffering in health, but when the broken bone was
set he insisted on returning to Kensington, and there he died on 8
March, just over a fortnight later.
Queen Anne was at Hampton Court many times during her reign of a dozen
years, but the story of that reign is not much associated with the
Palace, though that association is immortalized in a couplet of Pope's
_Rape of the Lock_, the scene of which comedy-narrative is set here.
Here the bold baron of the poem cut one of the tempting locks from the
fair Belinda's head, and a family feud followed which was only stopped
by Pope's delightful poem.
With the coming of the Hanoverians the importance of the Palace as a
Court centre dwindled. It is true that George the First and his son,
while Prince of Wales, were often at Hampton Court, and that the
latter when he became George the Second carried out a number of minor
alterations; but the place became less regularly and less notably a
centre of royal pageantry, though it was more than once made the
centre of state theatrical performances. King George the Third never
took up his residence here at all, owing, it is said, to the fact that
it was here that his grandfather had boxed his ears! It was, indeed,
during his long reign that the removal of many furnishings of the
Palace, and the systematic allotting of suites of rooms to people who
had some claim on royal gratitude took place. After the death of
George the Second Hampton Court ceased to be used as a royal
residence, and shortly after the accession of Queen Victoria the State
Apartments were thrown open to the public, and the Palace gradually
came to be recognized as one of the most delightful and interesting
centres of historical association within easy reach of the metropolis.
V
It has been seen that Hampton Court Palace has associations--often
peculiar and intimate associations--with our monarchs for close upon
three hundred years. In the first two chief courts, in the Great Hall,
the kitchens, the old cloisters, and the courts along the north side
of the building, it is not a difficult effort of the imagination that
is required to make us see it as it was in the brightly-attired days
of Tudor splendour and lavishness; to make us realize the arrival in
one of the courts of some noble company, when the great Cardinal was
entertaining and when King Henry was setting forth hunting; to make us
realize the hurrying of the cooks and their minions in the corridors
and cloisters about the great kitchens, the knots of idlers and
retainers in the lesser courts. In the later portions of the Palace,
the Fountain Court and the State Chambers, we may, "with the mind's
eye", see something of the more formal brightness of a later day, may
see the beaux and beauties of the early eighteenth century promenading
or "taking tea" with "proud Anna whom three realms obey".
The casual visitor to Hampton Court probably carries away two or three
definite impressions of the place, of a medley of decorated
chimneystacks, of warm red brick, of cool quadrangles, of broad lawns
and blazing flower beds, of an outlook over a boat-dotted river, of
galleries filled with a bewildering succession of old paintings, of
tapestried walls--and of the whole set amid stretching tree-grown
levels. It is, however, necessary to know the place closely to
appreciate it fully--it grows upon one, as the saying is; we should
have seen the homely court of the Master Carpenter as well as the
stately Fountain Court, the sculptures in the gardens as well as the
encyclopaedic clock, the kitchens as well as the picture galleries, to
have lingered about the Wilderness in the spring as well as to have
seen the Broad Walk in the blaze of summer, to have visited in some of
the residences as well as to have passed through the public galleries,
to have been about it at all seasons and not merely to have
scampered through it as the central incident in a half-day's
excursion. It is, indeed, properly a place for restful enjoyment
rather than for hurried sightseeing; though a hurried glimpse may well
prove a provocation to further visits and more leisurely inspection.
[Illustration: FOUNTAIN COURT]
Perhaps in beginning a ramble about the Palace and its grounds it may
be assumed that most people arrive by railway at the station which,
though it is in East Molesey at the Surrey end of the bridge, takes
its name from the palace on the Middlesex bank. This means that they
enter it--as also do those who journey from London by tramcar--at the
Trophy Gate, and have before them at once, at the end of a broad
gravel walk, the Outer Court and the rich red-brick medley of the
Tudor buildings, to which the eye is led by the severely plain row of
low barracks on the left, and a row of fine elms along the towing path
on the right. Here, at the west front, the recently-cleared moat at
once attracts attention. Until within the past year or two the gravel
forecourt extended right up to the palace walls, but excavation
revealed that the course of the moat, and the very walls of the moat,
and the old bridge approach to the Gatehouse were still plainly
traceable. The rubbish with which long since the moat had been
filled--possibly when William the Third made his alterations to the
Palace, or perhaps even earlier--was cleared away, the brick sides
revealed, the bottom of the moat neatly turfed over, and a parapet
with shield-bearing heraldical beasts erected on either side. These
heraldical beasts, it must be admitted--whether a restoration in
accordance with an old design or not--tend to spoil the approach to
the Great Gatehouse, for the whole would have gained in dignity had
they been omitted and the plain low castellated wall remained
unadorned. The similar banner-bearing heraldical beasts along the roof
of the Great Hall look far better on the skyline--but their fellows on
the eyeline below mar the dignity of the approach considerably.
The beautiful red brickwork, the various castellated turrets, and the
clusters of decorated chimneys, with the quaintly carven beasts
seemingly toboganning down the gables of the wings, together form a
fine example of Tudor architecture, though the appearance would have
been still better had the Gatehouse when restored in the eighteenth
century been kept to its original proportions, and had the leaden
cupolas not been removed from the many turrets. Two or three of those
turrets that remain in other parts of the buildings retain their
cupolas, to indicate how fine must have been the whole effect before
any had been removed. In the wall of either tower of the gateway is to
be seen a terra-cotta medallion portrait of one of the Caesars, others
of which will be noticed in the succeeding courts.
The wing to the right as we front the Gatehouse is the south-west wing
and is worthy of special mention before entering the buildings, for
there one of Hampton Court's ghosts has been given to manifesting
itself. This is the ghost of Mistress Penn who was nurse to Edward the
Sixth. An elaborate and circumstantial story tells of the sound being
heard of a ghostly spinning-wheel, and when search was made by the
officials a small sealed-up chamber was revealed, containing nothing
but a spinning-wheel and a chair!
Entering through the Great Gatehouse--where, though the Palace is no
longer used as a residence by the royal family, a sentry is always on
guard--we reach the First Green Court or Base Court--a peaceful
quadrangle surrounded by low red buildings with the western end of the
Great Hall fronting us to the left. This, the only turfed "quad", is
the largest of them all. In the surrounding rooms are supposed to have
been many of the chambers which Wolsey allotted to his guests when
they came in such numbers as are indicated in the passage already
quoted from Master George Cavendish. Opposite us is the end of the
Great Hall to the left, and directly in front is the clock gatehouse
on either turret of which is to be observed one of those terra-cotta
plaques of the Roman Emperors which were at one time thought to have
been the work of Della Robbia, and to have been presented to Wolsey
when he was building, but which Mr. Law has shown to be the work of
Joannes Maiano and to have been ordered by the Cardinal. This gate is
known as Anne Boleyn's Gateway, in the groined ceiling (restored) of
which as we pass beneath are to be noticed around a central Tudor rose
the monograms of that unhappy Queen, Henry the Eighth, and "T. C."
repeated alternately with them--the last-mentioned initials may well
puzzle the visitor who does not know that they stand for Thomas
Cardinal, a designation which Wolsey was fond of employing.
A broad flight of steps to the left leads upwards from Anne Boleyn's
Gateway to the Great Hall, but before proceeding thither most visitors
will wish to look into the Clock Court beyond. In this Court we get
the greatest clashing of the two periods to which the Palace as we
know it to-day belongs. On the left, or north side, is the buttressed
wall of the Great Hall with above the pinnacles surmounted by the
heraldical beasts already referred to; while on the right is a
colonnade masking the Tudor buildings on that side--Wolsey's own
apartments--in most incongruous fashion. Beneath that colonnade is the
entrance to the King's Grand Staircase and so to the State Rooms now
known as the Picture Galleries.
Looking back at the gateway through which we have come we see the
wonderful clock--a veritable horological encyclopaedia--which, after
lying long neglected, was in the latter part of last century restored
to its original position and set going. It was first put up in 1540
and is a remarkable survival from that time--though everything but the
dial has been renewed--seeing that we can now ascertain from it,
according to Mr. Ernest Law--though but few visitors are likely to
seek to obtain all this information from it--"the hour, the month, the
day of the month, the position of the sun in the ecliptic, the number
of days since the beginning of the year, the phase of the moon, its
age in days, the hour of the day at which it souths (that is crosses
the meridian), and thence the time of highwater at London Bridge". It
may be said that the clock needs a deal of learning, and those who
merely wish to know the time of day can find it more expeditiously by
consulting the conventional dial that fronts on the Base Court.
Two interesting matters connected with the astronomical clock are
worthy of passing mention--one is that its bell which strikes the
hours is probably the oldest thing about the Palace, for it goes back
to some years before Wolsey acquired the manor, and is mentioned among
the properties at the place where he purchased it; and the other is
that ever since the clock struck the hour at which Anne of Denmark,
the Queen of James the First, passed away in 1619 it is said to have
stopped whenever an old resident of the Palace has died. Those curious
in such matters declare, according to the historian of the Palace,
that there have been many coincidences in support of this
superstition. Perhaps the custom grew up of stopping the clock on the
occasion of a death. Beneath the dial is to be seen an elaborate piece
of relief sculpture in terra-cotta representing the coat of arms of
Wolsey supported by plump cherubs and surmounted by the Cardinal's
hat, the monogram "T. W.", and the date 1525--presumably the date of
the completion of this gateway.
On the farther side of the Clock Court is the entrance to the Queen's
Staircase, on passing through the hall at the foot of which we come to
the Chapel and the Fountain Court. At the entrance are two more of the
terra-cotta plaques to which reference has already been made.
[Illustration: THE GREAT HALL]
Turning back for a time to Anne Boleyn's Gateway we may follow the
steps up to the Great Hall, and entering from beneath the Minstrels'
Gallery at a doorway through an elaborately carven screen, we see at
once before us one of the finest and most impressive of Tudor
halls--very similar to but not quite so large as that of Christ Church
at Oxford. Whether we look up towards the dais as we enter from
under the Minstrels' Gallery, or whether standing on the dais--raised
but a few inches from the general level of the hall--we look back
towards the Minstrels' Gallery and the blue west window above it--it
is a grand and pleasing view that we get. The tapestried walls, the
high windows, and the fine Perpendicular hammer-beam roof together
form a magnificent and pleasing whole, one of the noblest halls of its
period that the country has to show. The tapestries, in which are
depicted incidents in the life of Abraham--though time has dimmed
somewhat the splendour of their colouring--are yet remarkable links
with Tudor times, for they were purchased by Henry the Eighth and have
remained at Hampton Court ever since the period of their acquisition.
Though much restoration was done in the middle of last century the
general character of the whole was not interfered with. Then it was
that the stained glass was put in--to replace that which had
presumably been destroyed during the times "when civil dudgeon first
grew high and men fell out they knew not why"--and we may well be
grateful that the taste displayed in doing so was on the whole so well
displayed, though the garish blue of the western window above the
Minstrels' Gallery is perhaps an exception to that taste. The great
oriel window at the southern end of the dais, with the beautiful
groining above cannot fail to attract attention, and looking back from
the dais down the Hall we may notice the elaboration and richness of
the magnificent roof, which is acknowledged to be probably the most
splendid roof of the kind ever erected in England.
Though we see the Hall to-day with but a few sightseers in it, it
needs no great effort of imagination to repeople it with figures of
the past; to recall the time when it was a centre of Tudor revellings,
or when King James sat in his chair by the great oriel or Bay Window
and saw the "goddesses" descend from the "heaven" above the Minstrels'
Gallery to carry on their masquings below. At the farther end of the
dais is a door, now covered over, leading to the antechamber known as
the Horn Room.
A doorway in the eastern end of the Hall from the centre of the dais
gives into the Great Watching Chamber which runs at right angles to
it. This also is one of Henry the Eighth's contributions to the
Palace, and with its richly ornamented roof, its wonderfully elaborate
old tapestries may be regarded as one of the most fascinating and
interesting parts of it. Indeed, if we except the Great Hall itself,
this is the most remarkable part of the Tudor edifice that remains.
According to an old engraving it was in this chamber that Cardinal
Wolsey entertained the French ambassadors at the sumptuous banquet
referred to earlier.
The tapestries here, representing the Triumphs of Renown, Time, and
Fate, are particularly interesting as they form part of a series
bought by Cardinal Wolsey in 1523 and have been hanging at Hampton
Court for close upon four hundred years. They are old Flemish work,
and should be supplemented by three others if the set were complete.
These wonderful examples of ancient "art needlework" are the more
interesting from the fact of their being links with the original
Palace. It should be remembered to Cromwell's credit that, though they
were duly valued as among the available Crown assets, he refused to
permit of their removal, and thus we have in them one of the most
notable links with the gorgeous past of Hampton Court. At the farther
end of the Great Watching Chamber is a small room--the Horn Room--with
stairs leading down to the cloisters and kitchens, and with the closed
doorway giving on to the northern end of the dais in the Great Hall.
Before passing on into the Orange part of the buildings, the State
Rooms and Picture Galleries, we may retrace our steps to the outer
court, at the north side of which, passing under an archway, we go
through the delightful series of courts along the north side of the
Palace--the Lord Chamberlain's Court, the Master Carpenter's Court,
and others. Here are to be seen the narrow, irregular side courts of
the old Tudor buildings, and remnants of the past in old lead water
pipes, and in the heraldical beasts along the roof of the Great Hall
which are most effectively seen from the Master Carpenter's Court,
through which we gain access to the cloisters and the ancient
kitchens. The kitchens, which unfortunately are not thrown open to the
public, are much as they were in olden days, and afford a curious and
interesting glimpse of old-time domestic conditions, with their great
fireplaces and their "hatches", through which the dishes were passed
to the servers whose duty it was to take them to the dining-hall.
Continuing past the kitchens the passage turns to the right and comes
out at the north-west angle of the Fountain Court, before reaching
which point, however, the entrance to the Chapel is passed on the
left. On either side of the Chapel door are to be seen, carved,
coloured, and gilt, the arms of Henry the Eighth and Seymour with the
initials of the King and the Queen (of the moment) united by a true
lover's knot. The true lover's knot was but a slip knot to the fickle
king, the Queen Jane's arms and cipher but replaced the earlier ones
of Anne's.
[Illustration: THE POND GARDEN]
The present chapel was one of King Henry's additions--Wolsey's
original chapel being either entirely demolished or so altered as
to be made anew. It has been surmised that had the great Churchman's
edifice remained it would have been something externally beautiful and
notable, whereas the present building is so much hidden that I have
more than once known visitors to point out the Great Hall as being the
Chapel. If the King did not make much of the Chapel externally, he
lavished attention on it internally, so that a German visitor toward
the close of the sixteenth century was able to wax enthusiastic as to
its splendour. Above the public entrance near the Fountain Court is
the great Royal Pew--entered from the Haunted Gallery--with a painted
ceiling.
Though the Chapel dates from Tudor times, it must be remembered that
its interior was rearranged and redecorated in the reign of Queen
Anne, and that those responsible for the work were by no means
hampered by any pedantic ideas of congruity. A matter of grievance to
many visitors is that the Chapel is not thrown open to the public. It
can only be seen at service time.