"You must no more call it York Place; that's past:
For since the Cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the King's, and called Whitehall."
Though Whitehall for us to-day signifies but one palace, in the days of the Tudors nearly every palace had its "white hall," usually the great banqueting hall, so that the new name bestowed by Henry was not peculiarly distinctive. Henry was delighted with his new residence, and proceeded to add new buildings, and to enclose nearly all St. James's Park up to the site of Buckingham Palace. Covering a vast extent of ground, the palace rambled from Scotland Yard along the riverside, to where Downing Street now stands, and spread across the roadway by means of a long gallery. Never so beautiful as Westminster, the Whitehall of the Tudors was a mass of brick buildings, erected without any particular scheme just as occasion required, resulting, as Besant declares, in a building "without dignity and without nobility." A roadway had always existed from Charing Cross to Westminster, and not even the autocratic Henry dared divert it for the sake of his palace, so that he caused two gateways to be erected to mark the precincts of the royal domain. Both were put up about the same time, the one nearer Westminster being called the King's Gate, and the other the Holbein Gate, being designed by the famous artist, Hans Holbein. Across this latter gateway ran the gallery connecting the main part of the palace with the Tiltyard (now the Horse Guards Parade) and the Cockpit (where the Admiralty now stands), the tennis court, and the bowling alley, where Henry VIII. indulged his love of games; for, as Leigh Hunt cynically tells us, "though he put women to death, he was fond of manly sports." Both gateways were removed during the first half of the eighteenth century, when the road was widened.
Henry VIII. died in the palace where he had secretly married Anne Boleyn, and where he had enjoyed so many of the good things of life. It is said that he had grown so unwieldy that he had to be lifted by means of machinery. Cranmer came to see him on his deathbed, but when he arrived the King was already speechless, though still conscious. The Archbishop, after "speaking comfortably to him, desired him to give some token that he put his trust in God through Jesus Christ, therewith the King wrung hard the Archbishop's hand," and so left the earthly scene of his cruelties, his amusements, and his worldly success.
Whitehall Palace at the End of the
Seventeenth Century.
When James I. succeeded to the throne of the Tudors, he found the palace of Whitehall needing a considerable amount of repairs. The old banqueting hall that had sufficed for the needs of Elizabeth was despised by the new monarch, who regarded it as an "old rotten slight-builded Banqueting House." Inigo Jones, the great architect, was called upon to supply plans for an entirely new palace. His plans, the originals of which still exist, were extremely ambitious, for if they had been carried out, London would have possessed a palace rivalling Versailles, and covering an area of twenty four acres. According to his scheme, the palace was to present four imposing frontages, having square towers at the corners, and was to contain one vast central court, as well as six smaller courts. Only the stately banqueting hall of this colossal scheme was ever erected, that which remains to-day, the solitary fragment of the once extensive palace. The hall was finished in 1622, and when, three years later, Charles I. came to the throne, he was too much overwhelmed with the difficulty of obtaining sufficient money to supply his immediate needs, to entertain any ideas of carrying out the proposed palace. He contented himself with adorning the existing banqueting hall, commissioning the artist Rubens, who was in London in the capacity of Ambassador from Flanders, to paint the ceiling. For the magnificent work which we see to-day, covering the entire ceiling, representing the apotheosis of James I. the artist received £3,000 and a knighthood from King Charles.
It was outside the banqueting hall which he had so enriched, that King Charles was beheaded on January 30, 1649. Early on the cold wintry morning, escorted by a body of soldiers, Charles walked from St. James's Palace, where he had spent his last night, across the park to Whitehall. Owing to the cold he had put on two shirts, in order to prevent any shivering, which might, the King thought, have been put down to fear. Wearing a black cloak, and a striped red silk waistcoat, he walked rapidly, telling Bishop Juxon, who accompanied him, that he was soon going to obtain a heavenly crown. On the way he pointed out a tree in Spring Gardens, planted by his elder brother, Henry. Arrived at Whitehall, he crossed over the gallery above the Holbein Gate, and went to his own room in the palace, awaiting the order for his appearance on the scaffold, spending the time in prayer.
In spite of the great controversy on the subject of the position of the scaffold, and the manner of the King's approach to it, there seems to be every probability that the scaffold, which was erected in the open street, stood in front of the large windows of the banqueting hall. It is thought that King Charles, after walking through the hall, crowded for him with memories of his father and of his own stately and decorous court, entered into a small adjoining room, the wall having been cut through for the purpose. And it was from the window of this small room that Charles stepped upon the scaffold. At that time the windows of the banqueting hall, facing Whitehall, were not glazed.