During the latter part of a promenade through the State Rooms, as has been pointed out, we go practically round the four sides of the Fountain Court, and when descending the stairs and leaving the hall below them, we find ourselves in the north-western corner of the Cloisters that surround the Court. Entirely differing from the Tudor ones, this is the most impressive of all the courts here, with its cloisters surrounding a quadrangle of greenery in the midst of which a fountain plays. Whether looked at from the gallery windows, where the plashing of the water may be heard on a summer day, or examined in our walk round the Cloisters, the Fountain Court is a beautiful and restful place, which, with its surrounding of untrodden grass—starred in spring with myriad daisies—forms a delightful contrast to the white cloister pillars and the red brick walls above. Over the windows of the King’s Gallery on the south side are a dozen round, false windows, filled with time and atmosphere darkened paintings. These paintings, now but dimly discernible as such, were the work of Louis Laguerre, who had been employed in “restoring” the Mantegna “Triumph” in the Communication Gallery, who was very highly esteemed as an artist by William the Third, and who was granted by that monarch apartments in Hampton Court. Probably these pictures, representing the Twelve Labours of Hercules, are beyond fresh restoration, otherwise they might presumably be cleaned and glazed to save them from disappearing completely. Laguerre is said also to be responsible for the painting of imitation windows in similar circular spaces on the south front of the Palace—imitations which are frankly hideous. The spaces would look far better if filled with plain brick or stone. Perhaps some of these spaces being occupied with practical windows, it was thought necessary for the sake of symmetry to make the rest appear such to the casual glance. Around the Fountain Court—along the north cloister of which the public way passes to the gardens—are entrances to various apartments allotted to private residents. On the east side flights of steps go up to the two private suites, known as the Gold Staff Gallery, at the south-eastern corner of the Palace above the State Rooms. One of these suites—at the south-east angle—is interesting as being the one in which, according to tradition, took place that “Rape of the Lock”, which Pope was to celebrate in the most remarkable poem of its kind in the language. Hither came the fair Belinda—Arabella Fermor—to play that game of ombre which the poet was to make famous; and here, her triumph at cards achieved, she was taking coffee—

“For lo! the board with cups and spoons is crowned
The berries crackle and the mill turns round”—

when “the Peer”, Lord Petre, “spreads the glittering forfex wide” and snips off the lock of hair!

“Then flash’d the living lightning from her eyes,
And screams of horror rend th’ affrighted skies.
Not louder shrieks to pitying heav’n are cast,
When husbands or when lapdogs breathe their last,
Or when rich china vessels fall’n from high
In glitt’ring dust and painted fragments lie!”

The Gold Staff Gallery has tragedy as well as comedy in its history, for at one time the other suite formed out of it—that facing south—was occupied by Richard Tickell, grandson of that Thomas Tickell, who, though a poet of some note in his day, is chiefly remembered from his association with Addison. Richard Tickell, who was also a poet and political writer, married as his first wife the beautiful Mary Linley, sister-in-law of Sheridan. On 4 November, 1793, Tickell—who appears to have been financially embarrassed—threw himself from the window of one of his rooms here, and was killed instantly on the gravel path below. Though it was officially decided at the time—thanks, it is believed, to the influence of Sheridan—that it was an accidental death, the historians have no hesitation in describing the tragedy as suicide.

[See larger image]

THE LONG WALK