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<h2> CHAPTER VIII. Whitehall. </h2>
<p>The Tilt-yard at Whitehall, where the jousting was appointed to take
place, was situated on the westerly side of the large area in front of the
old Banqueting House (destroyed by fire soon after the date of this
history, and replaced by the stately structure planned by Inigo Jones,
still existing), and formed part of a long range of buildings appertaining
to the palace, and running parallel with it in a northerly direction from
Westminster, devoted to purposes of exercise and recreation, and including
the Tennis-court, the Bowling-alley, the Manage, and the Cock-pit.</p>
<p>A succession of brick walls, of various heights, and surmounted by roofs
of various forms and sizes, marked the position of these buildings, in
reference to Saint James's Park, which they skirted on the side next to
King Street. They were mainly, if not entirely erected, in 1532 by Henry
VIII., when, after his acquisition from Wolsey, by forfeiture, of
Whitehall, he obtained by exchange from the Abbot and Convent of
Westminister all their uninclosed land contiguous to his newly-acquired
palace, and immediately fenced it round, and converted it into a park.</p>
<p>To a monarch so fond of robust sports and manly exercises of all kinds as
our bluff Harry, a tilt-yard was indispensable; and he erected one on a
grand scale, and made it a place of constant resort. Causing a space of
one hundred and fifty yards in length and fifty in width to be inclosed
and encircled by lofty walls, he fixed against the inner side large
scaffolds, containing two tiers of seats, partitioned from each other like
boxes in a theatre, for the accommodation of spectators. At the southern
extremity of the inclosure he reared a magnificent gallery, which he set
apart for his consort and the ladies in attendance upon her. This was
decorated with velvet, and hung with curtains of cloth of gold. On grand
occasions, when all the court was present, the whole of the seats on the
scaffolds, previously described, were filled with bright-eyed beauties,
whose looks and plaudits stimulated to deeds of high emprise the knights,
who styled themselves their "servants," and besought "favours" from them
in the shape of a scarf, a veil, a sleeve, a bracelet, a ringlet, or a
knot of ribands. At such times Henry himself would enter the lists; and,
in his earlier days, and before he became too unwieldy for active
exertion, no ruder antagonist with the lance or sword could be found than
he. Men indeed, existed in his days, very different in hardihood of frame
and personal strength from the silken sybarites, enervated by constant
riot and dissipation, who aped the deeds of arms of their grandfathers in
the time of James the First.</p>
<p>But the tilt-yard was by no means neglected by Elizabeth. This
lion-hearted queen encouraged a taste for chivalrous displays, and took
almost as much delight in such exhibitions as her stalwart sire. During
her long reign no festivity was thought complete unless jousting was
performed. The name of the gallant Sir Philip Sidney need only be
mentioned, to show that she possessed at least one perfect "mirror of
chivalry" amongst her courtiers; but her chief favourites, Essex and
Leicester, were both distinguished for knightly prowess. Many a lance was
splintered by them in her honour. When the French Embassy arrived in
London to treat of a marriage between Elizabeth and the Duc d'Anjou, and
when a grand temporary banqueting-house, three hundred and thirty feet
long, and covered with canvas, was improvised for the occasion, a
magnificent tournament was given in the tilt-yard in honour of the
distinguished visitors. Old Holinshed tells us, that—"the gallery or
place at the end of the tilt-yard, adjoining to her Majesty's house at
Whitehall, where, as her person should be placed, was called, and not
without cause, the Castle or Fortress of Perfect Beauty, for as much as
her highness should be there included." And he also gives a curious
description of the framework used by the besiegers of the fortress. "They
had provided," he says, "a frame of wood, which was covered with canvas,
and painted outwardly in such excellent order, as if it had been very
natural earth or mould, and carried the name of a rolling-trench, which
went on wheels which way soever the persons within did drive it. Upon the
top thereof were placed two cannons of wood, so passing well coloured, as
they seemed to be, indeed, two fair field pieces of ordnance; and by them
were placed two men for gunners, clothed in crimson sarcenet, with their
baskets of earth for defence of their bodies by them. And also there stood
on the top of the trench an ensign-bearer, in the same suit with the
gunners, displaying his ensign, and within the said trench was cunningly
conveyed divers kinds of most excellent music against the Castle of
Beauty. These things thus all in readiness, the challengers approached,
and came down the stable toward the tilt-yard." The challengers were the
Earl of Arundel, Lord Windsor, Sir Philip Sidney, and Sir Fulke Greville;
and the defenders were very numerous, and amongst them was the doughty Sir
Harry Lee, who, as the "unknown knight," broke "six staves right
valiantly." All the speeches made by the challengers and defenders are
reported by Holinshed, who thus winds up his description of the first
day's triumph:—"These speeches being ended, both they and the rest
marched about the tilt-yard, and so going back to the nether end thereof,
prepared themselves to run, every one in his turn, each defendant six
courses against the former challengers, who performed their parts so
valiantly on both sides, that their prowess hath demerited perpetual
memory, and worthily won honour, both to themselves and their native
country, as fame hath the same reported." And of the second day he thus
writes:—"Then went they to the tourney, where they did very nobly,
as the shivering of the swords might very well testify; and after that to
the barriers, where they lashed it out lustily, and fought courageously,
as if the Greeks and Trojans had dealt their deadly dole. No party was
spared, no estate excepted, but each knight endeavoured to win the golden
fleece, that expected either fame or the favour of his mistress, which
sport continued all the same day." These pageantries were of frequent
occurrence, and the pages of the picturesque old chronicler above-cited
abound with descriptions of them. Yet, in spite of the efforts of
Elizabeth to maintain its splendour undiminished, the star of chivalry was
rapidly declining, to disappear for ever in the reign of her successor.</p>
<p>The glitter of burnished steel, the clash of arms, the rude encounter, and
all other circumstances attendant upon the arena of martial sport, that
had given so much delight to his predecessors, afforded little pleasure to
James; as how should they, to a prince whose constitutional timidity was
so great that he shuddered at the sight of a drawn sword, and abhorred the
mimic representations of warfare! Neither were the rigorous principles of
honour on which chivalry was based, nor the obligations they imposed,
better suited to him. Too faithless by nature to adopt the laws of a Court
of Honour, he derided the institution as obsolete. Nevertheless, as trials
of skill and strength in the tilt-yard were still in fashion, he was
compelled, though against his inclination, to witness them, and in some
degree to promote them. The day of his accession to the throne—the
24th March—was always celebrated by tilting and running at the ring,
and similar displays were invariably made in honour of any important
visitor to the court.</p>
<p>Even in this reign something of a revival of the ancient ardour for
knightly pastimes took place during the brief career of Prince Henry, who,
if he had lived to fulfil the promise of his youth, would have occupied a
glorious page in his country's annals, and have saved it, in all
probability, from its subsequent convulsions and intestine strife. Inuring
himself betimes to the weight of armour, this young prince became
exceedingly expert in the use of all weapons—could toss the pike,
couch the lance, and wield the sword, the battle-axe, or the mace, better
than any one of his years. The tilt-yard and the tennis-court were his
constant places of resort, and he was ever engaged in robust exercises—too
much so, indeed, for a somewhat feeble constitution. Prince Henry indulged
the dream of winning back Calais from France, and would no doubt have
attempted the achievement if he had lived.</p>
<p>Of a more reflective cast of mind than his elder brother, and with tastes
less martial, Prince Charles still sedulously cultivated all the
accomplishments, proper to a cavalier. A perfect horseman, and well
skilled in all the practices of the tilt-yard—he was a model of
courtesy and grace; but he had not Prince Henry's feverish and consuming
passion for martial sports, nor did he, like him, make their pursuit the
sole business of life. Still, the pure flame of chivalry burnt within his
breast, and he fully recognised its high and ennobling principles, and
accepted the obligations they imposed. And in this respect, as in most
others, he differed essentially from his august father.</p>
<p>The tilt-yard, and the various buildings adjoining it, already enumerated,
were approached by two fine gates, likewise erected by Henry VIII., one of
which, of extraordinary beauty, denominated the Cock-pit Gate, was
designed by the celebrated painter, Hans Holbein. From an authority we
learn that it was "built of square stone, with small squares of flint
boulder, very neatly set; and that it had also battlements, and four lofty
towers, the whole being enriched with bustos, roses, and portcullises."
The other gate, scarcely less beautiful, and styled the Westminster Gate,
was adorned with statues and medallions, and the badges of the royal house
of Tudor carved in stone.</p>
<p>Viewed from the summit of one of the tall turrets of the Holbein Gate, the
appearance of the palace of Whitehall, at the period of our history, was
exceedingly picturesque and striking—perhaps more so than at any
previous or subsequent epoch, since the various structures of which it was
composed were just old enough to have acquired a time-honoured character,
while they were still in tolerable preservation.</p>
<p>Let us glance at it, then, from this point, and first turn towards the
great Banqueting House, which presents to us a noble and lengthened
façade, and contains within a magnificent and lofty hall, occupying nearly
its full extent, besides several other apartments of regal size and
splendour. In this building, in former days, with a retinue as princely as
that of the King himself, Wolsey so often and so sumptuously entertained
his royal master, that he at last provoked his anger by his ostentation,
and was bereft of his superb abode. Satisfied with our examination of the
Banqueting House, we will suffer our gaze to fall upon the broad court
beyond it, and upon the numerous irregular but picturesque and beautiful
structures by which that court—quadrangle it cannot be called, for
no uniformity is observed in the disposition of the buildings—is
surrounded. Here the eye is attracted by a confused mass of roofs, some
flat, turreted and embattled, some pointed, with fantastical gables and
stacks of tall chimneys—others with cupolas and tall clock-towers—others
with crocketed pinnacles, and almost all with large gilt vanes. A large
palace is a city in miniature; and so is it with Whitehall. It has two
other courts besides the one we are surveying; equally crowded round with
buildings, equally wanting in uniformity, but equally picturesque. On the
east it extends to Scotland Yard, and on the west to the open space in
front of Westminster Hall. The state apartments face the river, and their
large windows look upon the stream.</p>
<p>Quitting the exalted position we have hitherto assumed, and viewing
Whitehall from some bark on the Thames, we shall find that it has a stern
and sombre look, being castellated, in part, with towers like those over
Traitor's Gate, commanding the stairs that approach it from the river. The
Privy Gardens are beautifully laid out in broad terrace walks, with dainty
parterres, each having a statue in the midst, while there is a fountain in
the centre of the inclosure. In addition to the gardens, and separated
from them by an avenue of tall trees, is a spacious bowling-green. Again
changing our position, we discover, on the south of the gardens, and
connected with the state apartments, a long ambulatory, called the Stone
Gallery. Then returning to our first post of observation, and taking a
bird's-eye view of the whole, after examining it in detail, as before
mentioned, we come to the conclusion, that, though irregular in the
extreme, and with no pretension whatever to plan in its arrangement, the
Palace of Whitehall is eminently picturesque, and imposing from its vast
extent. If taken in connection with Westminster Hall, the Parliament
House, and the ancient Abbey—with the two towering gateways, on one
of which we, ourselves, are perched—with the various structures
appertaining to it, and skirting Saint James's Park, and with the noble
gothic cross at Charing, we are fain to acknowledge, that it constitutes a
very striking picture.</p>
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