One of the pleasantest excursions which a traveller can make from London is to Windsor, with its parks and grounds so wonderfully luxuriant and beautiful, and so vast in extent, and its royal old castle—certainly one of the noblest sights in all England.
This is finely situated on the Thames; it overlooks a rich and lovely country, and is seen from great distances—a grand, crowning object in the landscape.
I visited Windsor with a party of Americans, some of whom I had never seen before, and have not met since; but I always think of them with kindly interest, because I shared with them so great a pleasure. I wonder if they remember it as well as I do!
'Twas on a bright, but not unpleasantly warm day in midsummer, when the parks and gardens were in all the glory of their greenness and bloom, when fountains sparkled in the sun and birds warbled in the shade, and the sky above was clear and blue enough to make up for all the clouds and fogs I had seen since I came to England.
We went directly from the station to the Castle, a grand mass of ancient and modern buildings, towers, and turrets, and parapets—all solidly but elegantly built, of dark gray stone.
We entered through a lofty gateway, into the court-yard, from thence into a sort of guardroom, where we recorded our names in a book; and then were conducted up a great marble staircase, to the state apartments. These are somewhat jumbled up in my mind with the hosts of magnificent rooms which I have since seen in many other royal palaces; but I remember that they were all very handsome, richly furnished, and hung with fine pictures and gorgeous tapestry. I recollect most distinctly "The Vandyke Room," called so because of its containing several great pictures by that famous painter—principally portraits of Charles I. and his family. Then there is "The Waterloo Chamber," hung round with portraits of heroes and great men, and "St. George's Hall," a grand banqueting room, two hundred feet in length, and the beautiful ball-room, as brilliant as rich carving and gilding and delicate painting can make it.
Our party had permission to see not only the state, but the private apartments of the palace. These are less splendid than those great show rooms, but more tasteful, beautiful, and comfortable. Yes, comfortable—for the English, even in their grandest palaces, manage to have the dear, cosy home look and feeling about them. The Queen's breakfast parlor, looking out on a pleasant terrace, simply though richly furnished, and hung with portraits of herself, Prince Albert, and the royal children, is a very charming apartment indeed. We came to this through a long, bright corridor, lined with beautiful pictures, bronzes, graceful statuettes, and elegant curiosities, so that one could but be charmed to linger by the way. Several of the pictures represented scenes in her Majesty's life—her first council—her coronation—her marriage—the christening of the princess royal, etc.
Many palaces have such a vast, cold, awfully grand look that one fancies kings and queens must have very dull, stiff, dreary times, living in them, and must often long for a simple, snug little cottage-home, somewhere away from all their pomp and splendor. But it is not so at Windsor; I did not pity the Queen at all. I even fancied that I could be very comfortable myself, living at the palace, after getting a little used to it. Her Majesty never gave me an opportunity to test this, however.
Attached to the Castle is the beautiful chapel of St. George, in which the court, when at Windsor, attend service. Here, a place is partitioned off for the royal family, something like a box at the opera, only enclosed by a fine lattice work screen, to prevent the people, I suppose, from gazing at the Queen and Prince Albert, when they should be minding their devotions.
From the chapel we went to the royal stables, where we were shown some very fine horses and elegant equipages. There were the Queen's carriages of all varieties, and little pony phaetons, and Canadian sleighs and Russian sledges; and there were her carriage and riding horses, and Prince Albert's hunters, and the children's ponies. The stables are handsome and comfortable buildings, and are kept with the utmost care, order, and neatness. Thousands of poor people might envy the high-blooded brutes such a home as this. Some of the horses were very beautiful and graceful animals, and all were groomed so carefully it seemed no one hair was longer than the others. In almost every stall was a sleek, lazy, high-bred looking cat, either perched upon the back of the horse, dozing and blinking, or curled up in the straw at his feet, fast asleep. The grooms told us that the horses were really very fond of their feline companions, and treated them tenderly and protectingly.