The Skirts of the Great City

by N. D'Anvers

The twin villages of Hampton Wick and Hampton, the former below, the latter above, the riverside grounds of Hampton Court, have little that is distinctive about them in spite of their exceptionally beautiful situation, looking down upon the Thames, which is here dotted with picturesque islets. Hampton Wick prides itself on having been for some years the home of the famous essayist Sir Richard Steele, who dated from what he called his hovel in it the dedication of the fourth volume of The Tatler to Lord Halifax, first ranger of Bushey Park, and builder of the Lodge referred to above. Hampton glories in still owning the house beloved of David Garrick, who often withdrew to it for rest between 1754 and 1779, receiving in it as his guests Horace Walpole, Dr. Johnson, and many other distinguished men, whom he used to entertain with night-fêtes in the grounds.

Hampton Court

In Hampton Court the romantic interest of outlying London may perhaps be said to culminate, for no other place within easy reach of the capital is associated with quite so many thrilling memories, or has retained, in spite of all alterations, an equal number of the characteristic features of its evolution. In the quiet courts and cloisters overlooked by the picturesque gables and turrets of Wolsey's building, and in the beautiful gardens in which the anxious minister so often paced to and fro pondering over the many problems that harassed him, his spirit still seems to linger; the magnificent hall of Henry vili., in which took place so many stately banquets and gorgeous ceremonies, and the richly decorated chapel in which two of the despotic monarch's marriages were solemnised, appear to be haunted by the ghosts of his murdered wives, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, and of the scarcely less ill-fated Jane Seymour, who paid with her life for the birth of the long-desired heir to the throne, and is said to be unable to rest in her grave because of her remorse for having been the cause of the execution of her predecessor. Now the young monarch, Edward VI., and his stern guardian, the Protector Somerset, loom forth from the dim past, and behind them the imagination conjures up the shadowy form of Mrs. Penn, who on the death of the infant prince's mother was chosen to be his nurse, and was greatly beloved not only by him, but by his father and sisters. Henry VIII. gave her an estate in the country, but she attended her foster-son wherever he went, and after his early death she resided in apartments reserved to her at Hampton Court, till she too passed away. She was buried in the parish church of Hampton, a full-length recumbent effigy portrait surmounting her tomb, that is still preserved in the modern Gothic building replacing an earlier place of worship; but her grave has been rifled of its contents, and since the desecration took place she has been supposed to haunt her old rooms, and many have asserted that they have seen her groping along in them with outstretched hands as if seeking for some lost treasure. To these phantoms succeed those of Edward's melancholy sister Mary and of her sombre bridegroom Philip, who repells her ardent expressions of affection with forbidding coldness, the ill-assorted pair in their turn giving place to the stately maiden queen Elizabeth and her train of richly garbed courtiers, all vying with each other in their eagerness to prove their devotion to her person. Again the scene changes, and the hapless Charles I. comes forth, closely attended by his guards, to walk for the last time round the precincts of the palace that has served as his prison, where but a little later his arch-enemy, Cromwell, was to reign supreme. Now a wedded pair as ill-assorted as Philip and Mary, Charles II. and the childless Catherine of Braganza, hold their court in the historic building, that was in the reign of William III. to be enlarged and redecorated, assuming much the appearance it now presents, for the Georges did little to alter it, and it has not been used as a royal residence since 1795.

In the time of Edward the Confessor the manor of Hamntone, as it was then called, was owned by the Saxon Earl Algar, and in the Doomsday Survey it is referred to as the property of the Norman, Walter de St. Valeric, its value being assessed at £39. It remained in the possession of the same family for a century and a half, after which it passed to Henry de St. Albans, who either presented or let it to the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem, then one of the most powerful religious communities of Europe, by whom it was held until 1514, when the then prior, Sir Thomas Docwra, granted a ninety-nine years' lease of it to 'The Most Rev. Father in God, Thomas Wolsey, Archbishop of Canterbury,' at a yearly rent of £50. Before that all-important event in its history, however, the property had become greatly increased by gifts of land and money, and was already known as Hampton Court, the word court signifying, as is sometimes overlooked, merely that part of an estate in which the owner lives. That the Knights Hospitallers had a residence of some importance is proved by the fact that they occasionally received as their guests various members of the royal family, who, as early as the fourteenth century, showed a great predilection for Hampton. Many pilgrims, too, flocked from long distances to worship in the little chapel connected with the priory, that was credited with special sanctity, and to it in 1503 came Elizabeth of York, wife of Henry VII., to pray for the safe delivery of her expected child, and to spend a quiet week in retreat before returning by water to Richmond, where she died a month later.

The Knights Hospitallers had scarcely left their old home before the new owner began to pull it down, to make way for a building which he determined should rival in magnificence every other private residence in the kingdom. The grounds of the ancient manor-house, hitherto mere grazing lands, were converted into a park and enclosed within a massive red-brick wall bearing here and there a cross in black bricks, the emblem of the cardinal-archbishop, two or three of which still remain in spite of Henry VIII.'s orders, given as soon as he took possession of the property, that every trace of its having once belonged to the fallen minister should be removed. The site of the future palace and its gardens was encircled by a deep moat, traces of which can be made out on the northern side, an elaborate system of drainage was established, and a constant supply of pure water secured from the springs at Coombe Hill, three miles away, Wolsey proving himself far in advance of his time in his knowledge of sanitary science. The healthiness of his retreat thus secured, the work of building went on apace, a whole army of surveyors, architects, builders, and masons, etc.,—from amongst whom emerge the names of James Bettes master, Lawrence Stubbs paymaster, Nicolas Tounley comptroller of the works, and the Rev. Mr. Williams decorator,—toiling continuously under the superintendence of Wolsey himself, who was able to receive the king and queen for the first time in May 1516, when the royal party were entertained with all manner of pageants, masques, and mummeries, in some of which Henry himself took a prominent part.

The next few years were the happiest in the cardinal's life. He was still the king's most trusted servant, the master of boundless wealth, and no shadow from the melancholy future had as yet fallen across his path. Whenever he was able to get away from London, he hastened to his beloved home at Hampton, on which he continued to lavish vast sums of money, constantly adding to its art treasures, and causing his own apartments—several of which, including that known as his closet, remain as they were when occupied by him—to be decorated by the best artificers of the day.

It is, unfortunately, impossible now to determine the exact limits of Wolsey's buildings, but they appear to have occupied much the same area as those now standing, which include the additions of Henry VIII. and William III., so that they form a kind of epitome of domestic architecture from Tudor to Renaissance times. It is certain, however, that the west front and the utter or outer court with the clock tower, beneath which are the cardinal's arms in terra-cotta that somehow escaped Henry's jealous zeal, were entirely the work of Wolsey, and it must have been at the western gateway that he received his many royal and noble guests. At which date this beautiful residence was transferred by its builder to his exacting sovereign, who from the first seems to have greatly coveted it, is not known, but it is generally supposed to have been in 1525 or 1526 that the oft-told incident occurred, when Henry asked Wolsey why he had built himself so magnificent a house, to which with outer calmness but a sinking heart the cardinal replied, 'To show how noble a palace a subject may offer to his sovereign.' The gift was of course at once accepted, but the doomed minister was allowed to remain practically master of Hampton Court for some time longer, as proved by the fact that in 1527 he there received with great magnificence the French ambassador and his retinue, and that in 1528 he invited Archbishop Warham to spend a few days with him. As late, indeed, as 1529 Henry and Katharine of Aragon were again his guests, but before the year was over he had left his beloved home for ever. In August of that year the king took formal possession of the palace, accompanied not only by the queen, but by Anne Boleyn, for whom a beautiful suite of rooms had been set apart which she had long since chosen. Very soon the appearance of the palace was completely transformed, Henry's chief desire having apparently been to destroy everything that could remind him of the man he had once loved so well and trusted so entirely. A magnificent new hall with a beautiful hammer-beam roof replaced the one in which Wolsey had so often entertained his ungrateful master, a new chapel, new galleries, and new suites of apartments were built, the work going merrily on in spite of all the exciting events that were taking place in the rest of the palace. Hampton Court soon knew Katharine of Aragon no more, and Anne Boleyn, who had given birth in it to a still-born son, was succeeded by Jane Seymour, the change of queen making no difference in the daily routine, though the king gave orders for the initials A.B. to be changed to J.S. in the decorations of his wife's private apartments. Edward VI. was born, and his mother died in 1537, the former event being made the excuse for fresh expenditure on rooms for the infant prince, whilst the latter affected the widower but little, though he left Hampton Court before the funeral, declaring that he could not bear to be present at it. For some little time after the death of Jane Seymour the palace served chiefly as a nursery for the heir to the throne, and in 1540 Anne of Cleves resided in it for a short time whilst contentedly awaiting her divorce; but as soon as it was obtained she withdrew to Richmond, and the king brought home to Hampton Court his new bride, Catherine Howard, who really seemed likely long to retain his affection. From their beautiful riverside home the newly married pair started on an extended wedding trip, returning to keep Christmas at the palace, but before that festival came round again the enemies of Catherine had managed to poison her husband's mind against her. It was on All Souls' Day, 1541, when the king and queen were at mass in the chapel, that Cranmer secretly handed to the former a paper containing, it is said, convincing proof of Catherine's unfaithfulness, and with his usual impetuosity Henry at once decided to get rid of her. The unfortunate lady was ordered to withdraw to her own apartments, a strict guard was placed over her, and early the next morning the king rode away determined never to see her again. The story goes that in spite of the vigilance of her attendants Catherine managed to elude them all and to intercept her husband as he was leaving his bedroom, but he sternly refused to listen to her, and she was dragged away weeping and wringing her hands. Yet once more, in 1543, the king brought a bride to Hampton Court, the staid and tactful Catherine Parr, who managed successfully to play the rôle of mother to the three children of her predecessors, and, until her husband died, even to keep the peace with him.

During the last few years of his life Henry was constantly at the palace, and when he became too infirm to hunt at a distance he quietly set about enclosing within the boundaries of his Honour of Hampton a vast tract of country on the Surrey side of the river, taking in many manors and villages, including East and West Molesey, stocking the commons, meadows, and pastures with 'beasts of venery and fowls of warren,' and appointing officers to ensure the punishment of any who should offend against the laws of the chase, which were to be the same as those governing the ancient forests belonging to the Crown. To this very high-handed proceeding the owners of the property were compelled to submit, but after the death of the king his son had the enclosures taken down and the 'beasts of venery' removed, reserving the right, however, of restoring them at any future time, so that technically the lands in question still belong to the Crown.

Though Edward VI. and Queen Mary were both a good deal at Hampton Court, it was not until the reign of Queen Elizabeth that it was again the scene of such pageants as had been of constant occurrence during the reign of their father. The maiden queen, however, was greatly attached to it, often holding her court there, and it was in its great hall that the council met on October 30, 1568, which practically decided the fate of Mary, Queen of Scots, though it was not until December 4 of the same year, the day after a second consultation, when the Regent James, Earl of Murray, gave to the Queen of England the fatal casket containing the letters and poems that were supposed to prove his sister's guilt, that Elizabeth felt free to pronounce her doom.