Palace of Charles II.
Passing through the south door we found ourselves beside the one remaining tower, massive in strength and looking down from the height upon a garden where once ran the castle moat. On our right rises the high wall of a very different structure—Charles II.’s red brick palace. The proportions are magnificent and the whole effect worthy of its great designer, Wren. The main entrance with its six lofty pillars, acanthus-leaved capitals, and heavy entablature surmounted by the royal arms is scarcely visible from any point in the town, owing to the conglomeration of houses below it, but a glimpse can be obtained from a stable yard in Trafalgar Street, turning out of the High Street.
Charles II. laid the first stone in 1683. Evelyn writes in that year that the palace was estimated to cost £35,000, and the surveyor was purchasing land for a park to be ten miles in circumference. There was to be a cupola over it visible at sea. After Newmarket was consumed by fire, the King was more earnest to render Winchester the seat of his autumnal field diversions. Two years later Evelyn was here, and observed that £20,000 had been expended on the palace, but his Majesty (James II.) did not seem to encourage the work. Queen Anne surveyed it in person, and would have completed it for the Prince of Denmark had he lived. The first use made of it was for the incarceration of French prisoners of war in 1756. It must have been at that time a dreadful place; there were sometimes as many as five thousand prisoners in it. In 1792 it was occupied by a number of the exiled French clergy,[29] and a few years later was fitted up as a barrack, for which it has been ever since used.
Returning from the Castle to the Westgate we found that the keys of the Tower were kept at St. John’s Hospital at the other end of the High Street, and that it was necessary to obtain the permission of the civic authorities. This caused some delay, but when I returned we entered, and, ascending the rugged stairs, came to a cell where prisoners were until lately confined. Proceeding higher we reached the chamber over the arch—a handsome room with an ancient carved mantel-piece. The cause of the precautions taken with regard to visitors now become intelligible; for here are the archives of the city—volumes of records beginning with Philip and Mary, and piles of ancient vellum rolls. I observed a fine charter of Elizabeth’s reign, commencing with an etched portrait of the Queen, as a young girl, and a grandiloquent reference to Mary and Philip, as sovereigns of England, Scotland, France, Naples, Jerusalem, and Ireland. The rarest of these old documents were for a long time thought to be lost, but when, some ten years ago, inquiry was being made in a solicitor’s office in Peter’s Street, for a charter of Richard II., one of the clerks said: “Oh, we have a box full of these old things,” showing some parchments. And here, upon examination, were found twenty of these ancient records!
The City Coffer.
In this room is the huge old city chest, nearly ten feet long by four wide. It has three locks and different keys, and long chains and rings by which it could be carried about like the Ark of the Israelites.
“From what we read of the propensities of the Jews,” said Mr. Hertford, “I should say they would have preferred such an ark as this to their own.”
“Well, some of them would, perhaps,” I replied. “Their ark carried the law and holy things, but this contained the coin, and also the gold and silver plate of the city.”
It was heavily drawn upon in Charles I.’s reign for the King’s benefit. On December 30, 1643, there were taken out for the maintenance of the army:—
One silver ewer, weighing 33 oz.